Beautiful Dawn
by Passionworks
Summary: Azula Trilogy part two. She kissed him once, and thought it was meant to be. She showed him her fire, and he turned away. But after three years, he would not hold back, and she did not fight it. She couldn't... Rated for sexual content.
1. Prologue

Beautiful Dawn

Prologue

_"When your heart is strong_

_It leads you on._

_But when it breaks you_

_It devastates you for so long."_

_­-Heavy Heart _

_(Heart: From the 1983 album Passionworks) _

_My heart has withered…_

_My soul has fractured…_

_All I see are the walls, rusted and hopeless._

_My clothes are tattered and worn._

_I am nothing._

_I am noone._

_How long has it been?_

_Gone are my spirit and my will._

_Gone is the fear…_

_The anger…_

_The life I flourished by…_

Azula shut her eyes. She felt abused and abandoned. She did not know how long she had been stuck in this hellhole; noone ever cared to let her know.

_I have never had the pleasure of another's company._

_No, they forgot about me long ago._

_Just like the war…_

_All forgotten._

_Like history left unwritten._

She found herself in wonder as to what the outside was like. She disregarded the wind upon her face, the sun beaming in her eyes, the water cleansing her skin.

_Oh, how I wish I could feel it again…_

_So many things that we mortals take for granted…_

_The things I shall never see again._

A click.

The door that had sheltered her darkness creaked open. Light filled in her topaz eyes.

_It hurts…_

_But it feels so good…_

A figure stood in front of her. As her eyes slowly adjusted to the beam, the visitor's form became clearer.

_Zuko…_

Azula frowned in pain as she stared almost helplessly at him.

_You left me…_

_Just like Father…_

_Just like Mother…_

_Just like everyone else._

Zuko's penetrating eyes ate through her as he spoke, "Azula, it has been _three_ years."

_Three? Where has my life gone in all that time?_

"I do not know what has become of you. You always seemed like a person to _fight_ this. You fought for the crown. You even fought me to the death."

She realized almost instantly that he was right about it all. It had begun to sink in.

She did not speak, but the tears flowed. She found that she could not hold his gaze any longer.

_Stop…_

_Please…_

But the words kept coming, "You are so _empty_, Azula. You let go of yourself, that fiery vigor that was _almost beautiful_."

_Indeed, Zuko. But it was you who took it all away, remember? At The Meeting of Flames. From the moment the sun died inside me, the Fire Nation abandoned me._

_I have nothing to give it…_

_I have nothing to live for._

"There is so much that you have missed out on. You are seventeen, now. So much has changed. The world has slowly rebuilt itself, Father resides in jail, and hope is alive."

_Stop your taunting, Zuko._

_But you read my book well._

_I miss the outside world._

_I wish just to be a part of it again._

"But there is something else, Azula."

Another figure entered behind Zuko.

_Those eyes!_

_I remember them!_

_They hurt me…_

_But they loved me too…_

_Mother._

"Father told me that she was banished to the Earth Kingdom. She was a refugee, just like Uncle and I."

Ursa smiled warmly at her broken daughter. "Azula. There is so much left unsaid between us."

_No kidding, Mother._

_But…_

_This is just an illusion._

_Yes, an illusion._

_That is what those doctors told me. My visions are unreal._

_Mother, you died, did you not?_

_You do not exist…_

Tears flew from Azula's torn face. She screamed ferociously. Flames roared from her mouth in her angered ecstasy. She scorched the bars and wished that the blue fire would reach her mother.

_Just to show you what you did to me._

_I want your heart to hurt…_

_To ache…_

_Just like mine._

Within a moment, both Zuko and Ursa disappeared. Azula lowered her head, allowing herself to weep, the tears seeping into her ragged clothes.

_Was it real?_

_Are you really back, Mother?_

_Or was it just a dream?_

_How long have I been here?_

_Three years?_

_I do not know._

_But I trust noone._

_It was just a lie._

_It always was…_


	2. Chapter One: Taste of Temptation

Chapter One: Taste of Temptation

The flames were still warm around her, much like the presence of another. She had not seen a face in three years.

_At least, that is what Zuko said._

_But why should I believe him?_

_He shattered my hope and dreams for a dominant Fire Nation, the greatest civilization in history._

_He is the Firelord…_

_It should have been me…_

_Not him…_

_Not ever._

Azula lowered her head so that her chin rested upon her breast as she sat on the harsh, cold floor. A single tear formed onto her cheek and slipped into the cracks on the ground. She gazed around the tiny cell, only to see darkness, something she had once loved.

_But what is darkness without fear to hold onto it? All of those who once dreaded me are now braver, stronger, perhaps even more loved than I._

_There may be peace in the hearts of those who breathe the air of the outside world. I do not have that almost simple luxury. Indeed, there is no peace within me. I am tormented, insane. All of it is bottled up, waiting to be released._

_I find it almost orgasmic…_

Azula shivered at the thought. Her head levitated slightly as she heard the words come to her again.

_"I need a suitor, an heir to the throne. That is all I ask of you."_

_Father, I am in prison, now. Noone loves me, not then, not now._

_Not a single soul on this very earth would ever wish to love a monster._

_"My own mother thought I was a monster."_

_I am a monster, right, Mother?_

Ursa's image appeared inside her mind. That face that had bestowed her with so many burdens was there again.

_I cannot touch you, Mother. You are just a trick of my mind._

_A cruel one._

_If you truly cared about me, then you would leave me be. You should have left along with the other eyes._

The figure then disintegrated.

_No words, no nothing._

_You do not care for me…_

_Do you?_

_"No, I love you, Azula._

_"I do…"_

Azula sighed depressingly. The internal torment between love and hate had taken much of her energy in her three years in prison. She sniffled quietly as she heard a guard pass her door. She knew he would not enter; she had already been given her last meal of the day. Not that she ate it, of course. She still feared poison. She still feared a lot of other things, too.

_Death…_

_Men…_

_Domination…_

All of those things, seemingly insignificant, had hurt her. She never wished to admit her pain, so she kept it to herself.

_It is not as if they ever cared to understand me._

_Noone ever did._

_Noone ever will…_

Azula uplifted herself from another reverie as she heard a heavy scuffle. Once silence returned, the door clicked for the second time.

She shook her head almost violently.

_This is so strange…_

_I am dreaming…_

_It is all a fantasy…_

_The visions…_

_The faces…_

_The eyes…_

_Just go…_

_Away…_

But the door still opened with a shrilling creak. The light found her eyes again. As much as she enjoyed its company, she had to look away. She could not bear it any longer.

_It is too much…_

_Why are my dreams escaping my mind again?_

_I thought that I had learned to control them through my silence…_

"Well, Princess Azula, of all people," the figure emerged through the door, "I never thought I would find such a _prominent_ figure in a lowly prison."

_No…_

_The voice, so familiar…_

_I remember…_

_I loved it…_

_Once._

Azula cringed at his voice. She detested him, hated him to his very core. She had once surrendered to him, kissed him.

_And he gave me nothing in return. He was afraid of my fire…_

_Afraid of me…_

_Just like the rest of his kind._

_"…They act as if I am going to do something horrible to them."_

_Chan…_

_I thought that I would never see him again. I destroyed his reputation, gave him the revenge he deserved after turning against me._

_He has no right to come here at this hour of the night._

Azula felt her teeth clench as she seeped a low snarl from her lips. Her darkened eyes glared evilly into his, hoping to poison him.

_To make him shutter…_

_To make him leave me alone…_

But he did not move a muscle. Instead, however, he smiled at her. That smile that had once attracted her, just like his arms and his _sharp_ outfit.

And the memory would not go away.

_Are you just another image, a transparent nothing here to torture me? And of all people…_

_Why you, Chan?_

_Out of nowhere it seems._

_At least to me._

_But of course…_

_I never admitted it to anyone, but…_

_You…_

_You were the one that started it all. You turned from my fear, almost like an act of betrayal._

_Just like Mai and Ty Lee…_

_You are the reason I disrespect men. As much as you do not know it, you hurt me._

_Perhaps I loved you once._

_I was vulnerable to you._

_I lowered myself to subordination because of you._

_I ask myself…_

_Was I in love?_

_Am I still?_

_Why?_

Azula peered up at Chan, finally seeing him for the first time. Her eyes were heavy and tired, but she still could not help herself.

As soon as their eyes met, his beautiful smile transformed into a trenchant frown.

_You look down on me, Chan._

_Is it disdain?_

_Is it an act of sick pleasure?_

_I never knew you…_

_And I expect that it will stay that way…_

_Right?_

He left her gaze and suddenly spoke, "Back on Ember Island, that strange but shy girl was _you_, Azula. Why did you not tell me that?"

_You are an illusion, are you not?_

Despite what she was thinking, she answered him, "Why should I tell you anything?"

"I just want to know, Azula," he said nonchalantly, "I need to know."

"You are a greedy man, Chan. I know where you are going with this. I am not here for some sob story. I do not want to hear you apologize for leaving me that night, though it does seem appropriate, considering the situation."

"That is not what I am angling for."

She smirked, "What?"

"My reason for being here tonight is to hear you."

"In what context?" she asked, almost quizzically.

His eyes glowered in the dancing shadows of the dark cell. He gazed slightly; taking note of the small spells of flame that seemed to caress her. He nodded to himself, considering a theory of insanity or longing inside her.

But it did not matter to him.

"Azula, that night on Ember Island, you seemed so shy, so uncomfortable."

_If anything, Chan, it was you who was uncomfortable. I never show restraint from domination._

_As of now, you of all people should understand that._

"Your vulnerability, Azula. It was that exposure that attracted me to you. I wanted to make you feel accepted in the crowd of confident faces. You seemed so unsure of yourself.

"So _alone_."

"I had Mai, Ty Lee, and the now Firelord with me. I was not alone, rather, I was just opening myself up to the opposing side," she lied, "I wanted to see how we would be treated without our titles of royalty."

"You are lying."

_Dare you question me? Dare you dominate me so? I am the Fire Nation's Princess! The true and rightful heir! You are so vile to consider me a sinner like that._

_I am perfect…_

"You may not realize it, Azula, but I read you like a book. I can see the three years of struggle on your face. I can see the fear you once instilled onto others. You have had to connive and deceive."

_Incredibly wise…_

_He is right…_

_Perhaps I should open up to him. After all, he does seem to be the only one to understand my inner tribulation…_

_Insane is the thought! I cannot expose myself like that. Such open nudity would be an act of subordination!_

_Something I could never allow myself to grasp…_

As if her thoughts had been mute, she spoke, "Is it _that _obvious to you?"

"It is."

He grunted and shifted his position slightly to the right. He cleared his throat and continued, "That night, we were alone. To me, it felt like we were the only two humans on this earth.

"Just us."

"I do not understand." Azula quietly muttered, but audible enough for him to hear.

"When I looked out into that water, upon that porch, I felt as if I had found someone so different, but so odd and strange. I only knew you a short while, but I desired the need to _tame_ you."

_Another slip out of line, Chan. Another act of betrayal and dominance. As much as you try, you will never break through to my soul again._

_And make it a promise._

"The son of an Admiral believes that he can tame me, the daughter of the Phoenix King? The heir to the throne?" she laughed amusingly, "How incredibly silly of you to believe it."

She was losing his grip and she felt it unravel. She was struggling to stay afloat as she made a futile attempt at concealing her true rage.

And he knew it.

"I know how much it hurts you to even mention your father. You turned against him on the day Sozin's Comet arrived. You then lost the love of your father, your great mentor and teacher.

"The same with your mother years before."

_How does he know?_

_No, my mind is playing with me again. He is that of a silly reflection of my past. There is no way one could know so much about me._

_Because I keep it all to myself._

"How do you know so much?" she questioned, gazing into his eyes, "You are not even real, are you?"

"But you are wrong, Azula. I am flesh and blood." He crouched and his masculine hand reached into the cell, making a quick attempt to touch her skin. She jerked at his gesture, growling at him disapprovingly.

_Dare you try to touch me! Real or not, you are still the reason I am in this hellhole._

_This…_

_Everything…_

_Is your fault._

_"I need a suitor, an heir to the throne. That is all I ask of you."_

_Why now, Father. Why do you keep asking me this? Whatever you might be thinking right now, I assure you, I will not do it. I do not care what the circumstances may be…_

_I will not do it…_

Her head shook forcefully, slobber seeping from her mouth as her control over insanity slipped away.

_Why?_

_Is this what you wanted, Father?_

_Why did you put this on me?_

An abrupt clack ceased her violent episode. She slowly opened her eyes and noted that Chan was now on the inside of the cell with her. He turned and locked the door behind him. They stood in complete silence, the only noise heard was Azula's heavy, uneven gasps.

He then sat upon the stiff floor in front of her. They were about a foot apart. Azula backed her head against the wall to get as far away as she could from him.

_Why are you here? Indeed, I have never shared my cell with anyone, not that I ever wanted to._

She regained control of herself, "Chan, if you are not here to apologize, then why are you here? Why must you insist on this silent method of torture?

"I am not to be toyed with."

He scooted closer, lessoning the gap between them. He frowned almost irritably, "Listen, do you remember what you did to me?"

She huffed, smoke flaring from her nostrils, "You must be mistaken, Chan. Do you not recall leaving me behind? Do you need me to tell you that you embarrassed me?

"And what is worse, you _hurt_ me."

"I invited you to my home as a guest. You destroyed my family's heritage. I told you to act normal. You could not even do that."

"You are quite the materialistic man, Chan. Do you value possession over a human being? I find that depressing."

"You are one to talk, Azula," he retorted, "You _used_ people for your own greed. I know what you did to those you were once close to.

"That is why you are alone."

_Your words…_

_You are right…_

_But they abandoned me._

_They do not even care for me._

_Is that a crime?_

She lowered her head in an air of defeat. As much as she hated him, as much as her blood boiled in his presence, she could not dominate him.

_Have I lost something else, too?_

_I always prided myself on the control of others._

_Where is my pride?_

_It fell along with my throne._

Chan shifted forward abruptly as his head touched her. His lips met hers in a midst of a fiery passion. Instinctively, she backed herself against the wall. In an instant, she felt a pang of vulnerability.

_He kissed me…_

_Why?_

_Is it out of love?_

_Hate?_

_I do not know…_

_What of me?_

_Am I in love?_

_Father…_

_Mother…_

_Anyone…_

_Help me._

Azula's mind raced and panicked as his hands stroked down her neck to her clothed body. Kissing her again, he tore at the raggedy shirt until it shed itself from her.

She was exposed to him…

Snarling, Azula peered down at her bare breasts. Her hands slithered down and shielded them from his view. Chan grinned nonchalantly and gently gripped her wrists and raised her frail arms away from her chest.

_Get your hands off of me! I am not to be treated this way! Get me out of this crude bondage!_

His brows deepened as his eyes penetrated hers.

_I will not give in…_

_I will not…_

_Give…_

_In…_

His arms enveloped her into him as his nails dug into her back. His sweet lips found hers again as his tongue explored the innards of her mouth. His hands swiped across her breasts. Within a moment, they slid down and fondled with her pants. He grasped her waist and slowly pulled the slacks down her slender legs, her panties soon followed.

Completely nude, Azula's eyes widened in her irritation.

_Why did I allow him to get this far?_

Goosebumps spread across her skin as his soft hands rubbed up her thighs.

_He just keeps going. He has such audacity, something a man should not have._

_He is dominating me, and I am allowing it._

_I am subordination…_

_And it seems, nothing more._

_But for some reason, as much as his advances infuriate me, I find that I am intrigued, amused…_

_Why?_

_Perhaps…_

_I am in love with him?_

_But is he truly in love with me, too?_

_Or is he cruel like the rest of them?_

_I am stuck between the reality of my maternal responsibility and what I want with myself. I do not know where to run…_

_Who to run to._

_Chan…_

_Maybe it is him…_

_Maybe Mother was right._

_Father as well._

Azula grinned slyly and glared into Chan's gorgeous eyes. She perhaps saw a flicker of love, care, kindness.

_Your eyes…_

_Such raw passion._

_I love it…_

She wanted to capture it, to hold it within her…

Her face lunged forward into his. His eyes bulged with the turning of the tides, but he allowed her to follow through. Her eyes closed peacefully as she dug into his mouth and played with his tongue. Her hands tugged at his robe and removed it swiftly. She rubbed his hard chest and teasingly bit at his ear. As if she had lit a fuse within him, she felt him erect under his pants. She smiled longingly and ripped his coverings off of him.

The cards were in her hands as he was then exposed to her.

_Indeed, I play the dominant card, Chan._

_I want you to know that…_

She slid into him and her breasts pushed against his chest. They levitated with each steady breath she emitted. With her arms she grounded him passionately and grinned in a manner of sadism.

_Finally, I am right on top of you. I am the dominant here._

_And that is how it should be…_

Finding pleasure in her high position, her body arched as she allowed him to enter her. Upon his vigorous admission, she gasped suddenly with a jolt. With her heart thumping, she felt a pang of weakness in her knees as she melted into him. His hands then wrapped around her back as he slowly lifted her. Pushing her almost recklessly to the wall, his thrusts grew more abrupt, more painful…

_Much better than I expected…_

Somewhat to Azula's displeasure, he reached climax and slipped himself out of her. Chan then stood above her, his lower region shining like silk in the mist of the small fire that still smoldered from her incident with her mother.

_Please, do not call yourself done…_

His affectionate smile slipped into a depressing frown as he peered at her in disdain. His eyebrows furrowed and gave her a menacing eye.

"Your father's wishes are of my command, Azula, and you _obeyed_ well."

Azula groaned at his words lightly and spoke, "Obey? If you do not recall, Chan, I was on top of you.

"I _tamed_ you."

He laughed amusingly, "That is where you have miscalculated, Azula. Every inch of me was inside of you. I understood you on a level so intimate and personal it was literally orgasmic.

"I robbed you of something precious.

"Your innocence."

_My innocence…_

_I was blinded by your infatuation…_

_Your beautiful gift._

_You have reached under my skin and left me torn._

_Though we are physically apart, traces of you are still there, mingling with my tarnished virginity._

_Something I wanted to hold onto forever…_

Azula's eyes slid down to her exposed body.

_I allowed him to see me…_

Her eyes displayed a sense of displeasure and panic as she quickly covered her breasts with her cold hands. Her legs buckled underneath her to provide a makeshift sheath. She let out a bloody tantrum. Her insanity was seeping into her soul again. As much as she tried to fight it, her lost virginity weakened her to her very core. She lashed at him aggressively, arms flailing and slobber sliding down the corners of her lips.

_Father, I cannot believe that you would go to this level, just to see me suffer. Is he your hired gun? Your silent assassin?_

Tears slithered down the curves of her face. She screamed in her ecstasy and noticed that he left the inside of the cell. Now on the outside, he gripped the cage and displayed a cold smile.

"Remember me, Azula. Let it be known that someone finally conquered you. I am still _inside of you_, I always will be.

"Remember that."

He opened the large door with a grunt and swiftly closed it behind him.

Azula was alone again.

Her matted, still uneven bangs slid into her view as she fell onto her stomach. She clenched her body into a tight fetal position.

_The poison…_

_His poison…_

_It clogged me on the inside. It is eating into my innards with a devastating effect._

_I do not know if it is possible but…_

_"I need a suitor, an heir to the throne. That is all I ask of you."_

_I gave in…_

_I could not fight him…_

_Because I love him?_

_Please…_

_Let it not be true…_


	3. Chapter Two: By the Black Ribbon

Chapter Two: By the Black Ribbon

Firelord Zuko stood just outside a hefty door to the physician's office.

His mother was in there.

His complicated mind was a twisted knot of unanswered questions.

Why did Azula yearn to burn her own mother?

Was Mother to be all right?

He did not know the answers. Lack of knowledge was one of his weaknesses as Firelord. Though calm and graceful under the pressure, he always made sure that he was in complete understanding of every little detail of the Fire Nation. His reason, he reflected, was of perfect sense. The bloody war that had existed for a hundred years had just ceased barely three years ago. The four, or rather, three nations were still heavily divided.

But Avatar Aang was completely on his side in all of this conflict. It was, after all, _his_ duel with the Phoenix King that had symbolized the war's conclusion.

Zuko then had his only sister and father thrown into jail as punishment. Azula's imprisonment was always of discrepancy with his uncle and mother.

Though he respected them with his most esteemed honor, it was _his _decision to leave her there. She deserved it. She almost murdered him and Katara.

A debt too great to leave unpaid.

And of course, she sealed her own fate by what she did to their mother.

"Zuko."

The Firelord gazed to his left and noted his mother's presence. He smiled sympathetically at her.

"Well, what did they say?"

"The fire healers saved me from almost all of it. All that is left is just one small spot on the right side of my lower lip."

He glared at the mark angrily, "I'm sorry, Mother."

"It is not your fault, my son."

He shook his head, "For some reason, I feel that it is. I allowed you to go to the prison, and I regret it."

"Zuko, the only reason I came was to see my daughter for the first time in so long. I just wanted to talk to her, let all her pain go away.

"I forgive her for what she has done to me. My minimal suffering is nothing in comparison to what she has to go through. I still hold true to the belief that you should release her."

"You know I cannot do that right now, Mother. The world is still learning how to walk on its own. Allowing her back out would disturb the balance that the Avatar worked so hard in achieving."

He stared into his mother's warm, open eyes. The small scar on her face blatantly reminded him of his fateful Agni Kai with his father. Though that duel was at least six years ago, it still troubled him. It was his father's fault that he had been cursed to hunt down the Avatar.

But at least it was all behind him.

The sound of pattering feet interrupted his memory. He turned and faced the Avatar, Katara, Sokka, Toph, Mai, and Suki. He expected their arrival, as he had summoned their presence after Azula's episode.

"We came as soon as we got word, Zuko." Aang stated.

He nodded his head at the youthful Avatar. He then faced his mother hesitantly, feeling a pang of guilt as to what he was to tell them.

"It appears that Azula is going to be in prison for a while longer," Zuko answered, "She deliberately burned my mother with her fire. It seems that she is back to her crazed self again. She was increasingly violent, very unusual on the basis of weekly medical notices that I receive from the psychoanalysts that assist in her care."

The Avatar nodded in understanding. He was another believer in the blessedness of life. He was not holistically against her sentence, but he had wished for a lighter one, nonetheless.

"As you all know, after almost a year of vicious outbursts, Azula fell into an aura of silence. She has lasted in this state for about two years," Zuko continued, "Just last night, however, she seemingly broke it. Mother and I visited her to check up on her, but she ravenously attacked us with her fire. Despite not firebending in all her years there, it was still blue, and incredibly powerful. As a result, my mother was burned, as you can all see." He gestured toward his mother's face to depict his point.

"Where are you going with this?" wondered the blind Toph. Because of her visual impairment, she often needed a bit more coaxing on aspects that involved sight. Zuko understood this well, and he pushed into her point.

"Well, for one, as I said before, she will not be leaving. Despite your opposition, I am not letting go of this."

"We understand that Zuko," Katara stated nonchalantly, as she was completely in his favor with Azula's punishment. Her life had almost ceased on the behalf of his sister. Zuko knew that with all his heart.

"I can predict that she will be a problem for a while, being that she is vicious once again. She will be constantly monitored, just as she was before her stillness. I have summoned more Imperial Firebenders to keep watch, and I received word that they have landed on the Boiling Rock as of a few hours ago."

Zuko demanded that she was thrown into the Boiling Rock, as it was a place of strict order and discipline. She desperately needed it, at least in his rightful opinion, but it was another matter of incongruity on the behalf of others.

"So, do you honestly believe that more guards will keep her in line?" asked the inquisitive Sokka, "It seems to me like more of a reassurance on you and not her."

"The elites are a precaution. I just want to make sure that she does not stray again." Zuko answered, "though I do understand where you are coming from, Sokka. However, I still fear her power, even in prison, and it is best for us and the nations that she remains under a watchful eye. I do not want word slipping out about this. The balance is still unsteady. You of all people, Aang, should understand that."

Aang nodded hesitantly. He could read that Zuko did not enjoy this dishonesty that he was displaying to his people. He was not a man of secrets and sought to give his nations the knowledge that they rightfully deserved.

But this was a different matter.

"Firelord Zuko."

The group turned to face the voice. A lone Fire Sage, with a scroll in his hand, quickly paced toward them. He bowed respectfully and handed Zuko the message.

"What is it?" he asked irritably, an often-unseen side of him as Firelord.

"This is a Black Ribbon message sent by the warden at the Boiling Rock. He states that this is a matter of complete urgency on your behalf."

Zuko unraveled the scroll and read it aloud, "One of our marked guards was murdered last night. Your sister, the Princess Azula seems to be involved."

He cocked his head slightly in his confusion. "That is all it says. Not much detail to go on."

"What do you think we should do, Zuko?" Katara asked him, though it was almost obvious as to what he was going to say.

"I do not know what to make of this message, but I suggest that we do as the warden asks." He turned to the Fire Sage, "Please send a palanquin for our departure."

The sage bowed again and nodded. He exited the way he came in, still rushed and hurried.

Mai quietly made her way next to Zuko. She had once been an ally of his sister, but she respected him much more. On the Boiling Rock, she had betrayed the princess for his betterment. "Do not worry, Zuko. I am sure it is nothing of major importance."

He peered into her dark eyes and shook his head. He could not help but be flustered about the whole thing. So much had happened. All of it, it seemed, was in Azula's hands.

And he yearned to know why…


	4. Chapter Three: Silent Lies

Chapter Three: Silent Lies

Firelord Zuko and his betrothed, accompanied by the Avatar and his cast, stood on their toes with a hesitant stance on an unknown that was facing them. Though it was plainly obvious that some did not desire a visit with Azula, they knew in their hearts that it was a question of selfless sacrifice. A single airship had been assembled for their departure, one that was once used in the war. Though it was a foreboding war relic, it was efficient enough just to maintain a landing on the Boiling Rock.

It was better than having a measly war balloon.

With Zuko at the head, the whole group entered the ship. Many a member were reminded of somewhat distant memories inside these hunks of metal, but none were more distracting than what was ahead of them. Murder was not an uncommon occurrence, even after the war had ended.

But what did Azula have to do with it? Zuko found himself internally agitated with his lack of judgment on the situation. He knew that Azula had the heart to kill. He knew that very well.

But why after the three quiet years she had spent there? Did it have something to do with his unexpected visit? Did it falter her stability?

Why was the warden's urgent message so bland? If it was so significant, he should have included the details.

But he let it slide, just on the basis that he would find out very shortly. On an airship, the distance from the Royal Palace and the Boiling Rock was a small one. The agonizing wait would only last for a mere hour or so.

Zuko and Mai stood next to each other, but their silence resonated a feeling of separation between them. It was not that Zuko did not love his betrothed; it was just that he had a lot on his mind. He had once thought that Azula would be out of his life as a misery.

This was, in itself, completely unexpected.

Mai laid a petite hand upon his masculine shoulder and kissed his cheek. She gave him a stern eye of concern, but he could not hold her gaze. He understood that she maintained a devotion of detestation at Azula, but it was different for him. Azula was _his_ sister, _his_ sibling. Just on blood itself, he had to love and respect her, despite all that she had done to him. In his troubled state, he desired to believe that he too could learn to forgive his younger sister as his mother did.

But one side of him told him that she did not deserve exoneration. She was cruel, heartless, merciless. She was the matron of repugnance in the Fire Nation, at least, that was how he saw her.

But his uncle and mother pleaded for her liberation. She was just a child herself, barely seventeen. She was too vulnerable there. The many faces of prison were of crude, old slobs that probably dreamt of seeing her naked. They perhaps saw her as something they could never have, and probably never will.

But she was strong. She could fight even the hardest aspects of life. She had a vigorous fire, one that kept her alive all those years.

But she remained silent. She kept everything to herself. She was indeed, a woman of many secrets.

Had that silence been the key to her madness? Could she not hold it inside any longer?

Had she finally let go?

He shook his head lightly, releasing himself of his doubt. He peered over to his right and noted light conversation between the members of his posse.

How could they be so calm under all of this stress? Zuko found himself sweating profusely as his nerves smoldered. His view then altered to the blue sky. The clouds were pristine and calm as the airship whipped through them aggressively.

The day itself reveals nothing. No foreshadowing, no menacing colors, just a gentle, warm day.

Perhaps the spirits are at peace with the world.

But Zuko was anything but.

Within a short time, the clouds lost their stunning white luster. The smoke escaping the Boiling Rock was scorching as the airship descended into it. Zuko's eyes wandered around the bubbling water, remembering how hot it really was.

Even a cooler could not withstand its massive temperature levels.

He was instantly brought back to his memory here. He recalled two clever escape attempts, one that both he and Sokka had turned down. He felt a pang of pride with the thought that the young Sokka had finally been reunited with his father and Suki.

But those were just distant memories. Azula was a more important figure in his life, not that he wanted her to be.

Exploring his world around him, the ship landed smoothly with a somewhat shrilling creak. The exit ramp descended with a grunt, and the crew climbed down with a sigh of relief to be off the thing.

Too many memories, it seemed. It was never best in the unstable society to bring back the war, even in the minutest way.

Shadows loomed over them in an ominous stance. The perimeter was wider than it appeared in the air, but the distance from the front gates of the prison was not all that far. It was a benefit that the warden was expecting them, rather, they would have settled for backspace parking and an ongoing trek. Within a matter of about five minutes, the red doors of the front gate stood above them, lavishing the dense heat that swirled around the bodies and souls of the inhabitants. Zuko stepped forward with a high head and the surrounding guards bowed in their respect to him. He smiled approvingly as they then led him and "Team Avatar" to the warden's chamber. With a thundering knock, the door to the room promptly opened with a cackle on its hinges.

The warden, as Zuko remembered, was more or less, a wise, pompous ass, but he was Mai's uncle and despite his hardened feelings for him, Zuko still displayed a twinkle of respect in his eyes. The warden was aging with dignity, only with a few wisps of gray hanging upon his head, despite his years. He smiled warmly at his niece in acknowledgement of her presence, but gave Zuko a cold, pestering glare, a token of his lingering doubt over the Firelord. He then welcomed the rest of the crew, remembering a certain blue-eyed male as an imposed guard.

But his mind was elsewhere, that much was obvious.

Zuko, with no apparent intention of waiting, spoke first, "What is the meaning of this?" He flashed the scroll with a slight temper, "and what does it have to do with my sister?"

The warden exposed a small, but noticeable grin upon his face. He glowered at the Firelord again, but continued, "I blame my _scribes_ for that error, but that is all behind us now," he lied, "Moreover, as for your sister on the issue, you will have to ask her."

"What are the details?"

"About three hours after you and your mother left the Boiling Rock, an assassin, presumably male, murdered the guard on night duty for Princess Azula. The guard had been stabbed. His throat was slit. Based on the inflicted wound, we were easily able to classify him as right-handed, which, of course, is not much to go on. The keys to Azula's cell had been tampered with, as he did unlock her chamber with them. The details of what occurred in there are of discrepancy, but one thing is well noted."

"Go on." Zuko urged the warden tentatively.

"For one," he hesitated, as if afraid of his own words, very unusual for the generally arrogant warden, "Well, I hate to be the one having to tell you this, milord, but this may sound odd…"

Zuko gestured him to continue with a pleading, but stern grimace.

The warden gulped audibly, "Princess Azula was found completely nude in her stall. Her clothes were strewn around her."

Zuko could not help but be alarmed. His eyeballs widened with the warden's words, but he answered boldly, "So, what of her?"

"She was outwardly upset, screaming and crying like a child, but she would not reveal anything."

"So, did she request my presence?"

The warden shook his head, "No, she remained silent when I interrogated her over the ordeal. I just assumed that perhaps _you_ could get her to talk. You are her _brother_, after all."

Zuko nodded with displeasure, "Where is she now?"

"She is _waiting_ for you."

Their eyes met, "Then lead the way."

The grim-faced warden turned and faced his door. He opened it with a painless mumble, and gestured the team forward with his massive hand. The interrogation chamber was only a room or two down on the left from the warden's office. "Team Avatar," excluding Sokka, seemingly marveled at the order and strictness of the place. Their eyes wandered openly, each noting the bland red-brown walls and the rusty luster that surrounded them.

An abrupt stop. The warden allowed two guards, both female, to open the door in front of them.

Hands tied down to a hard, wooden chair, Azula's amber eyeballs were hard to miss in the solitary space. She stared in front of her, eyes never wandering to her sides.

_So, Zuko is here after all._

Her brows were deeply furrowed as she met her brother's identical eyes. She ascended with a grunt but the binds upon her hands kept her glued to the stiff chair.

_More bondage. What is it with people trying to keep me down?_

_Are they still afraid of my power?_

Zuko entered the small space with a precarious pace, lessoning the gap between the siblings by about five feet. Azula shifted her head as far back as she could and attempted to avoid his gaze.

Zuko closed his eyes for a brief period and cross his arms authoritatively, as if he were scolding a child.

_And I am not a child's plaything, Zuko. I will have you reminded that I almost had you killed._

_But you left me._

_Left me for better things and brighter days._

_You left me to rot away, forgotten._

_Why have you returned into my life again?_

_Wait…_

_Does he know?_

_Does anyone know?_

_My secret…_

_Chan._

"Azula," he said with an almost affectionate tone, "I know prison life has been a pain, so the warden offered my presence to you. Instead of speaking with him, you can speak with me."

_And what, in all honesty, makes you believe that I am interested? You can stop with that childish, pestering tone. I know what you really think of me. It is not as if you truly care. The warden summoned you just because he was pissed off._

_He is a shallow man, just like you._

_Just like all men._

_Chan…_

_Is that man inside of me shallow too?_

_I do not know what to think anymore…_

Azula let it quit with an abrupt sneer. She nodded her head, remembering what Zuko had told her, though it was not as if she had accepted his terms.

"First off, did you see or hear anything of pertinent relevance to this case? Anything in particular?"

_Oh, I heard a few things, Zuko. Just a scuffle and nothing else. Not a scream, not a sound at all._

As her thoughts raced with answers, she herself stayed absolutely unvoiced. This was her silent torture in response to her brother's wickedness.

_I want to see you angry, Zuko. That perfectly conformed Firelord with an uneasy tick._

Zuko growled with her silence, but maintained his posture, "Azula, think back, think about someone other than yourself for once."

_Other than myself? You gag me with your putrid tone! I am compassionate enough to consider others in my life!_

_I…_

_Love someone…_

_At least I think I do…_

_Chan…_

Azula felt her body shiver with her perturbed nerves on edge. Her blood curdled as she recalled her night with Chan. She went against herself, followed lust instead of love.

_I bargained with him…_

_I made love to him…_

_He conquered me in the most unimaginable way._

_He took my precious innocence… _

_The only stronghold I had left after three years in prison._

_I have nothing left…_

"Answer me." Zuko snapped. It eased Azula out of her daydream. Her eyes widened as her lips quivered. Tears fell without one moment of hesitation. As much as she detested crying in her brother's eerie company, she found that her dispute over her loss gripped her like a firm hand. She released a stifling moan, her grounded arms flailing with the pressure of the binds that held her down.

She just wanted a taste of freedom. No more words, no more questions.

A gentle, reassuring hand placed itself upon her tense shoulder. With blinded, teary eyes, she looked into her brother's dominant eyes. He smiled with a warm pat to her back, and although the gesture was odd, but soothing, she could not help but be infuriated by it.

_You are not an illusion this time, Zuko…_

_But if you cared about me enough to give me this kind of treatment, why did it take you three years? Rather, why did it take you seventeen years? You never loved me, you were incredibly jealous of me. I was greater, stronger, and better than you in every way. I understand that you still hold a grudge, that much is obvious, but your advances at sympathy have not the desired effect on my behalf._

_I will never warm up to you. You took my throne…_

_Much like Chan, who stole my innocence…_

_But I love him, do I not?_

_Why can I not see you in the same way?_

_You are my brother. We are of a common flesh._

_Why do we allow it to divide us this way?_

_Why question this, girl? You know the answer to your insane riddle. Zuko does not desire your affection; rather, he just wants to be in full knowledge of everything._

_Feel confident in keeping your secrets, girl._

_Die with them…_

"Azula."

The sound of her name snapped her out of her thoughts. Zuko backed away from her with a clenched fist, but his iron hand was not directed at her.

He detested her voiceless air more than anything at a time like this. He wished not to have to be the one to prod into the sexuality of the matter, but he pushed on with her full attention.

"I know this will be uncomfortable for me to ask, as a male, but why were you naked in your cell? It is somewhat odd, don't you think?"

_But it was not my fault! I did not do it on purpose…_

_It was an accident…_

_Yes, an accident._

_It was Chan that did it. He came to me…_

_He tamed me…_

_"Let it be known that someone finally conquered you…_

_"Remember that."_

_Should I tell him? Is that what Chan wanted of me?_

_Is that what Father wanted of me?_

_I obeyed Chan…_

_I obeyed Father…_

_And with that obedience, does it include my own brother?_

"It was…" Azula stuttered, afraid of the first words to escape her mind.

_Do I love him?_

_Protect him…_

_Die with your secrets._

Her eyes wandered sporadically around the room, shaken and bloodshot with fear. She saw too many faces, too many memories.

_It hurts…_

_The eyes, more this time!_

_Why have they returned?_

_I broke my vow of silence like a sin…_

She radically clenched her fists and fought through the binds, but as hard as she tried, her attempts were outwardly futile. The chair levitated with her weight as uneven, shrilling gasps were emitted from her lungs. Her teeth tightened in a menacing growl as droplets of spittle watered her lips.

She was ravenous again.

_No!_

_No!_

She breathed a tremendous amount of air and expelled it with a merciless blue flame. Almost as if she was suffering a seizure, she flung around wildly, to the chair's voiceless protest. With her weight, she sent it flipping backwards. A crack reverberated off the walls of the tiny chamber.

Bones against stones.

_At least I protected Chan like my child of fire._

_He is safe, now…_

_Because I love him?_

And her world went black…


	5. Chapter Four: Two Faces of the Heart

Chapter Four: Two Faces of the Heart

Water dripped endlessly from an old, rusted pipe. It was nonstop, robotically annoying. It splattered into a small puddle onto the crackled floor like a downpour of tears.

Azula awoke to the dribbles upon her smooth face. Her eyes opened wearily to the pitch-black darkness. A sharp, bloody stab split through her skull like a knife to the heart. It sent her exhausted body staggering to the floor. Although her eyes were still adjusting to the lack of light, she was able to catch herself with an extended left hand. The cold ground soothed her fingers, and it seeped into her blood with a pleasurable gust with a slight pinch of her unused nerves.

_Darkness, be my rapture._

_I lived by you, loved you._

_But the sun is the mother of my being. Fire is my element, the mortal enemy of the night._

_My fire rises in the east._

Azula began to get used to walking on her feet. Because she was blinded by the dark void, she groped around her, caressing the walls to keep her balance.

She fell backward to a seething pain in her head. With her left hand, she teased her hair, finding a matted, dry patch.

_Is that blood?_

_My blood?_

Her mind became heavy with questions. She recalled back to the most recent memories she had. She considered Zuko, the warden, the Avatar, all of the faces.

They made her enthralled with anger. They desired her rage, her feral being.

But she recollected bondage as well, being tied down to an inanimate object.

_How could they do that to me? Do they not know who I am?_

She boiled with irritation.

_All of them…_

_All that they had done…_

_Insanity reached me again. I am out of my mind, uncontrolled._

_Merciless…_

_But I thought that silence was its elixir, its ultimate remedy._

_But yet, it lingers…_

_Swirling inside of me, meshing with my flesh._

_Chan…_

_"I am still inside of you, I always will be."_

_Is there life besides my own?_

_Is he really still there?_

_He cannot die, there, can he?_

_Can he fall inside of me?_

_Fall from my heart?_

Her throbbing head gripped a massive headache. Her vision blurred again and she stumbled to the ground with a hefty thump. Lying on her back, she breathed deeply, her head churning like her empty stomach.

_Wait…_

_How long was I out?_

_It was not that long, was it? Zuko was just here a few minutes ago, wasn't he?_

But through her pores, she felt the heat of the new sun invigorate her with its vital energy.

_I was out all night?_

_Where was I?_

_Where am I now?_

_Back in my little living hell?_

_I wish I could see the light, the freedom._

_That Beautiful Dawn._

_The dawn by which the firebender rises, capturing the lustful spirit of Agni swimming inside each fiery burst that escapes the palms._

She dryly swallowed. Her lips and throat were desiccated with the lack of water in her system. She gritted her teeth as a menacing growl roared from her stomach, voicing its call of hunger. She wrapped her arms tightly around her body as the pain slithered through her esophagus.

As if a heavenly miracle was bestowed upon her, a single female guard opened the door and entered her cell. It was not the same one as usual, as she recalled Chan had killed her normal one. The woman offered a warm smile as she set a colorless tray upon the floor. Then she slipped it through the bars with a mild huff. Azula's eyes caught the sight of bread and noodles, the typical, mundane meal. Her starved tongue quenched itself with her watery saliva. She inched toward the tray, her right hand grasping the bread with a ravenous stranglehold. She placed it to her lips, the smell slipping into her system.

_Poison…_

She threw the bread down, dirtying it with the dust that crawled on the ground.

_This is a trick!_

_All of it…_

_All of them…_

_Are behind it…_

_I still trust noone; I will remain that way to my dying breath._

_That is the one thing that did not expire with the loss of my innocence._

_I will not commit sedition under my own godly nature._

"So," the guard said with a grin, ending her episode, "I see you are back in the land of the living. Still refuse to _eat_, I see."

Azula glared into the woman's eyes with a ferocious frown. Her teeth tightened to the bottom of her lips, causing blood to pour. As if she was a masochist, she did not shutter at her own suffering. The only motion she gave was a quick lick to her lips, her tongue savoring the blood that expelled from her. She allowed her hand to wipe the rest of it away, leaving a smudged smear similar to face paint on a warrior.

She looked away from her aggressor's expression with a snort. She did not want to give in to the stupid thing, despite her stomach's call. Her bile swirled with an acidic kick like a fetus in the womb. Her head spun slightly, gazing at the bread.

_Do not take the bait! You are better than that._

_You know they want to kill you. Firelord Zuko probably wants you gone._

_The Fire Nation is not at peace with you around, at least, that is how Zuko would see it._

_He yearns to have the four nations forget the war in its entirety, and with it…_

_That means you, too._

She conformed to the guard's silent demands and nibbled at the grubby bread. She did not want the woman to believe that she was thankful; so a little taste was best. She had learned somewhere that smaller bites make one fuller faster.

It was the only method she had.

"There, doesn't that feel a _whole_ lot better?" the guard snidely commented. She smiled and left the cell, leaving the Fire Nation princess alone once again.

_Finally, quiet peace…_

"_I need a suitor, an heir to the throne. That is all I ask of you."_

_Father…_

"_Let it be known that someone finally conquered you."_

_Chan…_

_I ask myself: Why did I protect you?_

_One side of me loves you. Another remains solely against you._

_I do not know which side to choose, which to back down._

_He robbed you of your virginity, a crime not to be taken lightly. He does not desire the best of you; he just obeyed your father's wishes._

_And in the end, he was given the ultimate pleasure…_

_The pleasure of your sweet kiss._

_The pleasure of your body against his, bodies so close, it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began._

_The pleasure of your exposure, your nude, physical beauty._

_The pleasure of your love made to him, the worst of all._

_But yet, you conceded. You love him, do you not?_

_He kissed you once._

_He gave you someone to care about._

_He made love to you, just as you did to him._

_You are both equal, so passionately in love._

_But he backed away on Ember Island._

_He was afraid of you._

_What is love with a cloud of fear?_

_But he is different now, older and wiser._

_So physically attractive._

_But you met him out of wedlock, an undesirable thing for a princess._

_You are impure…_

_And it is all his fault…_

_Or rather, is it Father's?_

Tears wetted her eyes as her confusion held her hand.

_Have I fallen in love?_

_How could I have collapsed so easily?_

A side of her pictured the snapshot memories of her descent.

_There is nothing explicit there. We were just two desperate souls, two lost and lonely people, finding each other in the sinful world._

_I am not a victim, but a volunteer…_

_Chan, how I miss you now…_

_We will know when we are closer to our love…_

_But…_

_I am now a vile, tainted woman. I am an utter disgrace to my people. I was destined to marry and keep the royal bloodline going._

_I was out of wedlock. He was an outsider._

_And I do not accept outsiders into my heart._

_But I did…_

_We kissed, touched each other, and made love._

_How much farther can we go now?_

Azula's eyes wandered to her middle.

"_I am still inside of you, I always will be."_

_In my heart, or somewhere else?_

_But it is impossible! There is such a small chance of it happening._

_I will not divulge myself into it._

She cleared her conscience with a tiny breath of fire.

_Fire is my child, my baby._

_The only one I will ever allow myself to give birth to._

_It is the only thing that rests in the bottomless chambers of my womb, not a life of flesh._

Azula smiled warmly as she cradled a sapphire flame in her palms and nestled it at her chest as if she were offering it her maternal breast. It brightened the dim cell with flicking shimmers that danced with her lonely shadow.

But it troubled her with a lingering doubt over her head.

_My heart is torn in two…_

_My scornful hate holds the left, while the kindness occupies the right._

_One side of me regrets his protection, regrets his advances._

_The other has been swept off her feet, into his arms._

_All of my life…_

_Has this been the calling card I have been praying to the spirits for?_

_The miracle by which my liberation will reside?_

_Has my life been a lie? Have I existed a life of fictitious fantasy?_

_A life where only I can win?_

_But why now…_

_Why am I losing?_

_I have wasted away for three hopeless years._

_Is this the only part that is real?_

_What is right?_

_What is wrong?_

_Do I reside by pleasure and hope for the best?_

_Or do I suffer endlessly until my day comes?_

_Life is not always a delight. I understand that now._

_Do I?_

Azula's guilt overwhelmed her, but she pushed it away with a lack of judgment.

_I have not slept well. Perhaps that is it._

_Do not fill your head with silly, unintelligent questions, girl. There is more to you than your own doubt and fear._

_Because I fear nothing, noone…_

_Ever…_

_I am perfect, always will be._

She smiled with satisfaction. She crawled over to her tiny prison bed and sprawled herself into the thin, single-layered blanket. Placing it over her shoulders, she shivered, enveloping her arms around her.

_Why am I so cold?_

_Is it the air around me?_

_The hateful faces?_

_No…_

_I am cold…_

_Cold-hearted…_

_Because I live as if I do not care._

_I never let the frozen strangers into my fire._

_I am alone…_

_So alone…_

_I never shared with anyone…_

_Perhaps it is time…_

_But if I do…_

_I will not be me…_

_Someone else…_

_Someone I have never opened myself to…_

_That little girl…_

_So immature but timid…_

_I pity her…_

_But do I really want to be her?_

Azula's eyes were pushed down by the enormous weight of sleep deprivation. She saw the walls around her disappear. She fell into a light slumber, just barely below her own awakening. Her fists bundled at her chest with her legs curling under them.

Her dreams were her fears. They grabbed at her, touched her, fondled with her once serene life.

_But that was so long ago…_

_I barely remember it anymore…_

_Memory…_

She woke with a pitchy yelp. Her eyes were bloodshot, pulsating with her rapid heartbeats. Her view darted around the cell, hoping to see something, anything, that could free her from this mortal wound.

_My heart bleeds…_

_Sliced in half by my own wretched discrepancies._

_Two faces…_

_A smile._

_A frown._

_Where do I run?_

Her eyes closed tightly, her measly attempt to hide herself from her misery.

The faces fragmented and disintegrated.

Leaving her alone at last.

_They let go of me…_

_Both sides of my soul have closed…_

_Neither winning nor losing…_

_Just me…_


	6. Chapter Five: Words That Ran Cold

Chapter Five: Words That Ran Cold

He recollected on it. The first words she had said to him after three years.

_"It was…"_

It was what? What was it, Azula?

She did not ever answer him. She could not.

She unashamedly refused his requests as Firelord. That in itself, on normal terms, was treachery under the crown.

But she was his sister, the sister that had disrespected him all her life.

But it did not matter, though. Did she ever think to care for others once in her seventeen years? Did she ever think that one man's life case could be closed?

Even if it was just a guard, his life still mattered to those who loved him, family, friends, fellow coworkers.

All of them.

And to Firelord Zuko, every life was precious. He had picked up that philosophy from the Avatar. It had remained in his heart since Katara met the monster that had killed her mother. He had a personal connection to her case, with the fact that his own mother was deemed dead on the actions of the Fire Nation.

But she was alive.

He could not sleep. He tossed recklessly, but he felt the sensation of an alien presence, a woman. He rubbed his sleepless eyes. He blinked quickly to regain his focus.

The eyes that greeted him were crimson with a sparkling anger. Her topaz eyeballs resonated with the blending color and her pupils dilated in the dimness of his chambers.

Azula…

"What are you doing here?"

"_You do not know? Are you that blind? You left me to die in a rotten prison cell, to roll around in my own filth._

"_Have you no heart?"_

Zuko gave a quizzical eye at his sister, still wondering why she was even there. He shook his head, his hair gently flailing in front of his face.

"_Look at you, Zuko. The Firelord, the idol of the nations. You swim around in your riches, you bleed gold, I am sure. You consider yourself a man of great potency, a man of no secrets, a man of physical innocence._

"_What if word leaked out that it was all a façade of fabrications?"_

"And in what way is it a lie, Azula? I was the rightful heir by birthright. I was the first-born son. None of that, I assure you, is deceitful."

"_I do not mean it in that way, Zuko. Of course I know you are the man of our nation, as I am the woman. We were born into the Fire Nation with a purpose, though yours was seen as greater than mine. You went against Father's will and implications, just to get your way. He deemed me the rightful heir, not you. On the day of his coronation as the Phoenix King, he declared me Firelord. In all technicalities, you stole the crown from me and locked me away, forgotten. How would you like it if that leaked to the public? That you are just a lying, loathing, cheating sinner like the subjects you serve? Did you honestly think that you could forget me? Did you believe that I would forget and maybe even forgive you?"_

"I was following through with my destiny. I was doing the world a greater good by overthrowing the tyrant's rule."

"_Enough of those lies, Zuko. They are unimportant to me now. I do not care for conquer. What matters most is that we see each other in a new light. I care about what is on the inside of you, the side of me that you never bothered to look for._

"_Would you believe me if I told you that my actions were accidental? Would you?"_

He frowned and sat up on his bed. He crossed his muscular arms with a cantankerous look on his face.

"In what way is that even remotely true, Azula? You have lied to so many in your life that noone trusts you anymore. How do you expect me to believe anything that you say?"

"_Because I am your sister, is that not a reason in itself?"_

"By blood, I should have faith in you, but by will and destiny, I do not."

The princess sulked with a low head. She breathed in deeply and walked next to her brother. She looked into his eyes with an open sense of concern, a newborn emotion to her.

Zuko gave in with a grunt and scooted over to allow her to sit next to him. She smiled weakly, acknowledging his invitation. She faced him and wrapped her arms around her legs as if she were cradling herself. She rocked gently, feeling a pang of loneliness in her brother's presence.

"_Zuko?"_

He gave her a cautious eye, "What?"

Azula looked away. She did not incline at confessing to her sins at his will, nor did she want to beg at his feet. However, a part of her craved the words she was considering leaking. A part of her just needed someone to talk to. She never had a comforting conversation with him ever in her life. It was all about power, and it was her desire to amend that.

"_Zuko, all of my life, I was hungry for power, and with that, it meant overriding you."_

"I already understand that. You do not need to tell me twice."

Her right hand grabbed at his left shoulder, pulling him closer to her face, _"Just listen…_

"_Please?"_

He nodded, gesturing her to proceed.

"_When I was barely a toddler, I was told that weakness is undesirable, that I was a prodigy, though at the time I did not know what that meant._

"_I would sit upon Father's knee and he would tell me that I was going to be somebody. I was going to be the one in charge someday. Father said that the only way for me to achieve that was to take you down and mercilessly win over the throne myself._

"_At the age that I was, I was damned into believing it. Father was my mentor, my idol._

"_In his hands, he molded me to be the ruthless monster that I have become."_

"But you _decided_ to follow him, Azula. No matter the circumstances, you kept it going, even when your heart pleaded guilty."

Her teeth gritted against her cheeks, _"Do you even know what horrible things he did to me, just to keep me in line?_

"_Father used me, like a puppet. I was his little prodigy, his angel, and what do you think happened to me if I strayed?"_

Zuko did not leave her fiery gaze, but his head backed up slightly, as if attempting to release himself from her cloud of resentment. His eyebrows furrowed, giving him a questionable expression.

At that, she continued, _"He beat me, Zuko. He hurt me. He dug into my flesh and made me bleed. Worst of all, I would look into his eyes, and happiness would be there, as if he was gaining orgasmic pleasure from watching me suffer. The pain was not a matter of punishment, but it was a lesson of strength._

"_Suffering, Zuko, was my teacher, too."_

The corners of her eyes wetted with tears. She lowered her head, not allowing Zuko to see that she was crying. She rocked harder, shaking her head violently.

At that moment, Zuko understood what she had been hiding her whole life. He placed his arm around her shoulders. With his touch, he felt how gaunt and emaciated she was. She was no longer the shapely, ripe woman she was before her imprisonment.

As if a concerned conscience masked him, his hands explored her. From her shoulders, he fell to her breasts and ribcage. The bones jutted out against her thin layers of flesh. His lips quivered as he swiped over her hips. The sensation of the feeling was almost physically painful to him. As if his touch had immobilized her, she did not move a single muscle, acknowledging the gaucheness of the situation.

Zuko felt a single tear fall from his face.

"What have you done to yourself, Azula?"

"_So, now you know, in an odd way. I just feel as if I have no life to live anymore. I waste away endlessly to no avail. Why do you misuse the nation's taxes on my existence?"_

His mouth opened, but no words came.

"_I know you do not care for me, and it is quite understandable as to why…"_

"Azula, you are my sister, do not do this to yourself."

She shot him a disgusted look, _"Why? What life would I be so deserving of, Zuko? Even if you released me, I am sure I would have to be guarded by those pointless elites._

"_That in itself sounds worse than prison life. At least there, I have time to think, privacy, among other things. If you did let me go, freedom would be a price I would have to pay._

"_I do not want to have to buy my own personal liberties. I thought that this was now a world of peace, where freedom is a right, not a privilege."_

"It is, Azula."

"_Then why is that not true in my case?"_

"You are a prisoner. You lost some of your rights with your crimes. All criminals have to pay that price."

"_But I am not a criminal, Zuko._

"_I am the victim…"_

"Look, I know you are just trying to get me to pity you. You understood your actions and their consequences. You are at the _age of reason_, Azula, as am I. The only motive for why you acted upon Father's desire was that you have no _conscience_ at all. You have no compassion whatsoever. You hurt others because you see no guilt. Do you remember what you did on the day of Sozin's Comet? You almost had me killed, Katara as well.

"The _price_ of one's life is too little for you. You are shameless and greedy, and apparently, nothing so far has worked to change that. You displayed that during our interrogation. Now that I am on the subject, are you willing to talk to me about it?

"Who did it, Azula? Who killed that guard? Who went into your cell and left you naked?"

"_The answer is right under your nose. It lies somewhere deep inside of me. I hold the solution to your question."_

"Do not bother wasting my time. If you know who it is, then tell me."

"_It is someone you know, Zuko. A face you saw once and probably never forgot._

"_It was someone I once cared about…"_

"Well, that _definitely _narrows the pot, now, doesn't it?" Zuko said with a sarcastic growl. "I will bet that you are lying again. You do not concern yourself with the care of others."

"_Oh, but I do."_

"Then why are you starving yourself to death like this? Why would you put yourself in so much pain if you truly had a loving heart?"

Azula looked away from him. She crossed her arms at her stomach, staring directly at her middle.

"_I just need to rid my body of something I do not need…"_

Zuko woke with a start. Gasping heavily, his eyes darted to every corner of his chambers, searching for his sister.

But she was gone, without a trace.

It was if she was never there at all…

His eyes wandered over to his betrothed, hoping that he had not disturbed her. Her eyes were peacefully closed. Her left arm was outstretched under her pillow and a child-like smile was on her face. Despite her depressing state during the day, she was at her most joyous at night in her slumber.

Zuko cocked his head and beamed at Mai with pride. He wrapped himself back up in his blanket and scooted closer to her. He gently cuddled around her and closed his eyes.

He almost knew Azula would visit him again, haunt him in his sleep. She did not return again _that_ night, however. She left him to ponder her words, to see if he really paid attention. She understood how badly Zuko ached to solve the prison murder, but if he truly _knew_ her, he would have figured it out in a heartbeat. She did not make it too intricate for him to unravel, but she desired his knowledge, something he somewhat lacked along the way.

She had to question his sympathy, more than she wanted to. He touched her, felt her tortured state. He had seeped a single tear for her, such an odd reaction in itself, that she almost considered it an act of generosity, of honor.

She did not do this for him; no, it was more than that. She did it to teach herself something. She wondered endlessly if she had the heart to tell the truth, to remove the impurities from her tongue, to cleanse her cross from bloody sin.

None of it was a lie, but how much of it was true?

"_I just need to rid my body of something I do not need…"_

But in all reality, something told her that she did need it, that it was a matter of urgent necessity.

But _what _was it?

All of her life, she had prided herself on her own selfish needs.

And _what _could be more important than that?


	7. Chapter Six: Love's Conception

Chapter Six: Love's Conception

Three weeks.

Three weeks that she had spent unaccompanied and alone.

Solitude became her _sole_ ally, as much as she detested it herself, the friendship knew no boundaries. Normally, she was one to work out her problems on her own, something she had prided herself over from her youth.

But she had questions, so many inquiries.

But nobody had the answers, nor did they ever care to listen.

Zuko was back in the royal city, lavishing himself on his perfect nation, she assumed, with straight-faced Mai at his side. She did not know what to say about Ty Lee, that _silly_ acrobat. Perhaps she had followed back on her calling at the circus, or she was still in prison. Azula had not heard news on her case at all.

The Avatar was probably out touring the world, spreading the message of peace with his putrid crew. They had the freedom to enjoy the outside world, to ride the skies, and exist in tranquility. All were mere inconsistencies on her part. Oh, how she was _jealous_ of them.

The warden did not give her trouble. He left his guards in her company. There were a few more of them than usual, perhaps one of Zuko's silly precautionary proposals.

No more news on the prison murder. The case remained unsolved and those useless interrogations ceased as well.

Her mother's return was still that of a mystery. Azula found herself questioning whether her incident had even happened at all. Memory had been a major setback lately, as she was attempting to disregard her past, but a side of her believed in it all and she deliberately ignored it.

The days were standard: two ordinary meals a day and a weekly visit from the psychoanalysts that assisted in her so-called rehabilitation. Not that she dismissed the fact that she was in need of aid; it was just that their methods suggested psychopathic schizophrenia. And she_ knew _for a _fact_ that she was not a _mental_ case.

But her interest was elsewhere.

Azula laid her attention on what she herself could not see, something that flesh leaves hidden for a future to hold.

She was late, for one thing. All of her life, Azula delighted herself on a lack of tardiness, physically and mentally. She understood, as a growing woman, her body was experienced with constant adjustments.

But none had lasted this long. She was a week off of what she considered to be her normal schedule. Though she herself was not anatomically wise, she understood that bodily delay symbolized something of a dilemma.

_Am I having a baby?_

_Chan's baby?_

_Did our love unite us with conception?_

_What am I going to do about it?_

Azula shifted herself upon her cot, placing her back against the cold brick wall. She shut her eyes and breathed melodiously and evenly. With her breaths, she soothed herself and cleared her troubled mind. She just needed some private time to think and the finest time to do that was at night, awaiting the rising sun.

_Calm down, girl._ _Based on your meals each day, you are about five weeks into it._

_Though I have never single-handedly dealt with pregnancy before, I can recall a thing or two from Mai's mother when she got pregnant with Tom Tom._

_Morning sickness. I certainly remember Mai complaining about that. Food cravings are another. At royal dinners with the woman I can recollect her ravenous appetite._

_So, what of me? What am I going to be like?_

_Angry, that is what I should be. I never wished to have to carry the weight of another. Chan had his few minutes of pleasure and I end up having to carry his baby for what, nine months? When I become heavy with child, I will then have to abandon my fire, my true progeny._

_But the child is innocent from the moment of conception. They are not at fault for the actions of the parents. I cannot hate the consequence if I loved the process that got me there. I can certainly want to pass down my genetic prowess, as my child would be a second follower of my feminine beliefs._

_But is there the slightest possibility of an overpowering youngster, one who wishes to overtake that of the generation before? I cannot have that in my life. A person does not live for the betterment of their children or the next generation. Existence is solely based on the betterment of oneself. _

_Is that how my mother saw me? Was I just something of a chore to be left behind to suffer alone? She left me to save Zuko if I am not mistaken, and because of that, I fell deeper into Father's hands._

_No wonder I am this way. Greedy, selfish, and self-centered. Is that what I am going to give birth to? Would it be considered right if I acted that way when I was young?_

_But I am perfect. My excellence is the only right that I have kept with me all of this time._

_But I am far from perfect. I gave up my innocence for a few moments of arousal._

_And now I am to undergo the penalty of my exploitation. I am carrying the weight of someone else, not my own anymore._

_What will be of my shapely figure? I do not want that silly bump to show. That would be a sign of utter disadvantage. In a place like this, flaws can get one killed._

_And with that, will my baby be in danger? Should I even be concerning myself with the safety of my little one? It will be perfectly shielded inside of my womb, consuming every bit of food that I ingest. It is an act of theft, is it not?_

_Could this baby be the ticket to my own freedom? If the warden received word that I was pregnant, would he let me out? Would Zuko? Or would it just be a false hope? Would they let the baby go and leave me here? A prison is no place for a developing infant._

_But it is also no place for a pregnant woman, am I right?_

_What more is there to worry about?_

_Will it be a male, female?_

_A little girl would suit me better than a boy. At least a female would see where I would be coming from in my beliefs. A boy would just be an immature nuisance. And besides, what use would it be to give birth to a first-born son? It is not as if he would be the next Firelord._

_"But motherhood just the same. It is a part of your life, to be the mother of the Fire Nation's next generation._

_"You were born into this family for a reason, my daughter."_

_Mother…_

_Perhaps her words had more of a connection to me than I had initially thought._

_Is this the reason why she came back, if she even did at all? She carried children herself, so I would think that she at least would know something about this sort of thing._

_But why bother, girl. She abandoned you for a better life. Would you allow yourself to set that same example on your kid? You are stronger than she ever was. You can get through this on your own._

_You are the princess._

_Princess Azula, the greatest firebender in the Fire Nation._

_But why do I feel so different? Why do I feel that I just might need some sort of aid with this?_

_Will it be a painful thing? Will it hurt me? Will I have to settle with this puny jail cell as my delivery room?_

_Do not bother with the twisted evils of the up-and-coming future, girl. Deal with the here and now, what you know and understand. It is the now that makes up the mind._

_Should I support this pregnancy and allow my child to be delivered into the world? Or am I damned for a life of misery where the only way out is to kill the little being._

_Murder was never a difficult thing. I almost killed Zuko and the Water Tribe peasant and I did not ever care for all of those who died in the war._

_But why do I feel a pang of guilt? Could I really put myself up to killing a part of me?_

_A part of Chan?_

_And I am beginning to believe that there is love between us. Would the death of the being of my labor destroy that adoration that was created from the heat of our two souls that intertwined that night?_

_A part of me cannot deny that I made love to Chan out of the affection in my heart. I allowed domination to seep into my body because I was in love that night._

_Perhaps I am still._

_Maybe this child will help me learn something about myself and maybe a little more._

_But you are straying from your very nature, girl. Remember what your father did to you when you went wrong?_

_He took you for granted. He destroyed your mental innocence and you had to grow up into a hard and spiteful woman._

_It is not love that drives you, girl. It is the pure act of anger and hate that keeps you going. Your father abandoned you on the day of Sozin's Comet, a crime not to be taken lightly. Zuko, as heartless as he is, threw you away like a piece of trash. That is all that you are to him._

_My heart is torn again._

Azula dismissed her thoughts. She softly fell to her left side. Her hands cupped her slender stomach. She took note of her own emaciation, feeling along her ribs.

_Can I really be starving myself like this? As an expectant mother, I have to support some food in my system._

_But it is better than living this pitiful existence. I have to continue down the hill. Death is a more pleasing option, as it will rid me of this atrocious flesh._

_But suicide is the final act of a coward. If I am to ever fulfill my destiny, then living is worth it, more or less._

_What should I do?_

_Was Mother true to her words? Is my real destiny not that of leading the Fire Nation, but of birthing the next generation?_

_Is that really the purpose of me, the greatest firebender, the prodigy of the New Ozai?_

_What level have I swooped down to?_

_My nature, my truest being, fell once Chan and I shared intimacy._

_Is love really that brutal?_

_Maybe three years ago it was…_

_But inside my womb is something of our passion. We allowed ourselves to come together just once._

_But why in all of this…_

_Do I feel so alone? _


	8. Chapter Seven: Philosophy of Dreams

Chapter Seven: Philosophy of Dreams

_"I just need to rid my body of something I do not need…"_

Externally, Zuko carried a level head upon his shoulders, a valiant expression upon his face, and a gait of royal significance. But on the inside, his reality was of a tremendous torment.

It was all connected to Azula. She was the figure of his rage, his doubt, everything else.

Zuko made the assumption that she was just a pointless attention-getter, one that lacked the notice as a child and was making up for it on _his_ behalf.

Typical, he supposed, of a greedy woman as she was.

She even had the audacity to rob him of his precious dreams. She had visited him a number of times with a haunting message of reminder.

_"I just need to rid my body of something I do not need…"_

He smiled without mirth and let the nagging sensation go. He strolled gallantly to the temporary compartment of the Avatar in the royal palace. Zuko repeatedly admitted to himself that the only one that could possibly decipher his reveries was Avatar Aang. He understood the fact that Azula was not really ever there in his presence, so he had quickly deduced possible _spiritual_ connection.

With a quiet, but demanding knock, Zuko entered the room. The Avatar was wittily entertaining his cat-like pet, Momo, and did not instantly acknowledge Zuko's foreboding and morbidly concerned presence.

He cleared his throat to garner the young man's attention.

The Avatar turned quickly, eyes widened with childish irritation. Work, in the spirited boy's mind, should never impede on play, as simple as it may be. Zuko sensed that there was probably a _holy link_ to that little pocket of wisdom.

But he shrugged it off, "Aang, I know that I am in no position to _disturb_ you," he nodded toward the little animal, "but I need to ask you about something."

Aang nodded slowly. He levitated his body with his bending and stood face-to-face with his once mortal enemy. He smiled sweetly and bowed in generous respect, "Ask me anything."

The Avatar was a man of fifteen years of age with a slightly better build and muscular structure. Zuko reasoned it to be an act of puberty setting in and not much else.

He lowered his head with a slight note of embarrassment, "Well, this may sound odd coming from the chief of the Fire Nation," he shifted his body weight to his right side, leaning toward the wall of the doorway, "but I have to admit that my _conscience_ has not been as clear as it should be, Aang."

With a similar expression to that of a confused puppy, Aang cocked his head and furrowed his eyebrows, "In what context, Zuko? It's not like you are going against your nation anymore."

"In a way, I feel that I am."

"How so?"

Zuko exhaled audibly, a slight uncertainty in his tone, "With you being the bridge from our world to the Spirit World, I just wanted to ask if there is a connection between the dreams of our realities to that of the philosophies in the Spirit World.

"Is there?"

"Well," Aang said, trying with his best efforts to bring up something from his youth, "the Monks always said that dreams have meaning pertaining to those that conceive them. Where are you going with this, Zuko?"

"Lately, I have been fearing my own rest and peace. For about three weeks or so, Azula has visited me in my sleep. I don't know if it is out of conscious guilt or if she really has something important to tell me."

Aang shrugged his shoulders, "So this happened right after we came to visit her at the Boiling Rock?"

"Yeah, the night right after we left."

"Did she _say_ anything that stuck to you? Anything worth pointing out?"

Zuko raised his head, staring around the inner bowel of the room, "She told me that her fall into destruction was that of an _accident_. She blamed it on Father. She stated that it all started when she was a little toddler, sitting upon our father's knee. She was to be _someone great_. But Father _beat_ her to keep her on his side, to make her the true prodigy that _he _saw her to be."

"Do you believe it at all?"

"I don't know. From the time I was young, I have always based my opinions on her tendency to lie. Azula compulsively falsified every little thing when we were kids growing up. As of now, I do not know whether or not to trust her."

"I can understand that," Aang said, recalling her wicked trickery on the Day of Black Sun, "but perhaps you should focus yourself on _her_ instead, what she hopes to get out of this.

"Perhaps there is a side of her that neither of us has seen."

"Maybe you're right, Aang. She became a different person. For the first time in my life, I actually saw her _cry_. I saw her _regret_ something.

"She actually seemed _human_."

Aang gave a perplexed look to Zuko's statement. He had a firm belief that all people were human beings and as humans, they were capable of a great good or a great evil, and despite these opposites, they were still worth fighting for.

"Zuko, she's your sister, of course she is human. We all sin and make mistakes: you did, I did, and even _she_ did."

"But she did not have a _conscience_. She killed without mercy and displayed no affection. You could not even imagine what she almost did to Katara."

Aang sulked, his feet shuffled with his frustration, "I know, but it does not excuse her from worthiness. All life is sacred."

Zuko gave a small smile to that statement, remembering the silly anecdote that went with it.

Aang continued, "What did she do in the dreams? What of her actions and words?"

"Well, she cradled her body as if she felt cornered like a child. I don't know if this was a dramatically desired effect, or if she really was afraid. She never spoke of a single fear in her life, not even death. It just seemed so well played, perfectly acted out."

"Consider _her side_ this time."

"Actually, there is another point I could go into."

Aang gestured Zuko with his deep gray eyes, forcing the Firelord to continue, "I _touched _her."

The Avatar grimaced at the external thought of Zuko's words, but did not utter a single remark.

"The whole situation was so gauche, but something inside of me forced me to keep doing it. It was not a _sexual _thing, as I have Mai, but it was more of a _revelation_ of sorts.

"Aang, she was nothing but skin and bones. I felt her spine, hips and ribs, feeling for a single sign of _life_ upon her skin, but there was none.

"She was starving herself."

"On the thought of that, she did appear quite lethargic and her face was severely drawn. I can see some verity to that part of your dream. But the purpose holds so many possibilities. For one, she could be playing the role of the attention-grabbing child, but of what purpose is that to learn from? From her experiences with you, I would think that she would know that you learned that a long time ago. I think there is something else to it, perhaps a connection to the events in her life. Is her prison activity monitored?"

"No, I had decided not to do that to her, as she was suffering enough."

"What of the murder? Did she ever reveal anything about that in your dreams?"

"Well, I coaxed her into speaking about it, but she gave me no definitive answer. She'd said that it was someone I knew once, a person she herself had _once cared_ about. Now, I know my sister well enough to not fall for that."

"Are you sure? I mean, she _did _have a close relationship with your father. Maybe with expressing a lie about her past, she is in reality trying to protect him."

"She said it was someone somewhat obvious, so maybe there is a connection there." Zuko confessed, but changed the subject, "What about the spirits? You never really answered my question on that."

Aang placed his right hand on his chin and rubbed it lightly, contemplating the situation, "Spirits only consume themselves in the lives of mortals when it is worth their while. If there indeed _was_ a connection to the spirits, they would desire something of you to be coming to you like that."

"Is it my position in power?" Zuko offered as a suggestion, "I am the Firelord, son of the disgraced Ozai."

Aang quickly cut him off before he continued, "No. Spirits do not concern themselves with the external side of a person, but the inner soul. A guilty conscience, destruction of nature, outward chastisement of a spirit, those sorts of things would trigger resentment. As we were on our way to the North Pole, we came across a forest that was destroyed by the Fire Nation. The spirit of the woods was Hei-Bai and he was angered by the destruction that was bestowed upon his home. He took captives in the nearby town out his rage, but with the knowledge that his home would soon grow back, he let go of his fury and released his hostages.

"See? Do you get my point?"

Zuko nodded with a questionable approval, "What of me? I never did anything to upset the spiritual balance."

"Maybe you _did_."

"What?"

"The spirit of the Sun is called Agni, right? Though Agni himself was just the first human firebender, he died into a spirit. As with many firebenders, perhaps he saw fire as a destructive toy and that is how he portrayed it. Maybe the spirit of Agni is angered because you were the one that turned against the nature of flames. Ozai and Azula could've been the modern messengers of Agni's vision."

"No, you're wrong," Zuko scolded, "The spirit of Agni was a peaceful one. He was the father of firebending and only yearned to pass down his ability that he had taken from the newly born Sun. With his death, he powered the Sun with the skill of fire and became it. He was not seen as the enemy. If he was, the balance between day and night would be tampered with."

"That's similar to Yue becoming the Moon when the Koi Fish was killed by Admiral Zhao."

"Exactly."

"It makes sense. Two of the most prominent spirits are that of the Sun and Moon. Agni and Yue. They live and control the tides of the water and the light of the day. Each has a solstice and an equinox to balance them out so they work as one, even though they are seen as complete opposites."

"So then Agni is _not _angry at me, right?"

"I don't know. I am not all that familiar with that spirit, as I have not met with him personally. He could just be a gentle spirit that holds a belief in the aspect of family. Though it seems simple and pointless, Agni was a spirit of many brothers: all of you in the Fire Nation. Perhaps he sees this as disrespect to bloodline. He displayed generosity to his siblings and passed down a noble cause. You turned against your sister who shares your flesh."

"I see the connection. But there is one last thing to point out."

Aang prodded him to speak, "The last words she said in every dream were the same. It was as if she centered herself at this statement."

"What is it?"

_"I just need to rid my body of something I do not need…"_

Aang gave a disgusted look of confusion, "I don't know what to make of that at all."

"She would not ever dare to look me in the eye as she would say that. Her eyes would wander to her _stomach_."

"Maybe she is sick. Prison life is not always best.

"Or maybe she is _dying_…"

Zuko backed off with a step. He did not ever think to picture it in that perspective. All of his life, he had always thought his sister was immortal, a woman of no pain or illness. She was always healthy growing up. Her only notable problem was her mental condition, which was recently diagnosed as _schizophrenia_.

He spoke timidly, "So, do you really think that is what it is? I mean, Azula was always in good physical shape. Her body was prone to no illness. She never had a disability to keep her off of her feet. In a way, she indeed _was perfect._"

"I do not know." He turned to Zuko, glaring at him with his incisive colorless eyes, "Zuko, this is something _you_ have to figure out for yourself. You faced this sort of thing with your uncle and with your banishment. You find yourself asking _me_ the questions. In all reality, these questions are meant for _you_.

"I will give you one bit of advise: Azula is your ticket into the answer books. She is the only one that understands her inner tribulation. In order for you to grasp it, you have to get _inside her heart_, to make her care enough to open up to you.

"Give her what you forgot to give her in her childhood. Give her a brother that she can trust and offer a hand to. You and Azula existed as mortal enemies, as sibling rivals, not as _blood relatives_.

"_Change_ all of that. Do it for her, and maybe you will learn something yourself."

Aang strolled past the Firelord and exited the palace room, his pet following devotedly behind him. As he left, Zuko turned back with a dubious stare.

He recalled his banishment. Had he come to another crossroad in his destiny? Another tribulation had befallen upon him, and again, he found himself in complete disarray in attempting to figure himself out of it.

As much as he hated Azula, he just wanted to make things right again. If he could restore the balance of the nations, then why could he not restore the balance of his family?

But how far did Azula want to go into it, if she did at all? She was not one to bargain, as she had remained silent to him with a turned back.

Her _silence_ was what he needed to understand. Why did she cease to speak? What quieted her?

What had hurt her? Why did she not let it out? Why did she keep it bottled up inside her heart?

There was a sense of desperation in his dreams, desperation in her. Perhaps she was willing to negotiate with him.

Maybe the real Azula was just a lonely child, someone that he never knew.

With his own two eyes, he had only seen the dark side of her moon.

In his heavy heart, he admitted that the light had never crossed him. She never displayed it to anyone.

Perhaps there was _another side_…

The side of her that he had never bothered to look for…


	9. Chapter Eight: Truth of Childhood

Chapter Eight: Truth of Childhood

A part of her was still a lonely Earth Kingdom refugee, one that lived by seclusion and knew no faces. That part of her still burned with a passionate flame, the life of unknown purpose, the woman that killed the elderly Firelord Azulon to save her son from certain death by his own father.

The other side of her extinguished that flame and began a new one in the wake of her life as the mother of a man who struggled as she did and lived a parallel existence. This was the side that smiled and laughed, the side that loved and knew no pain or regret. This side sparkled in her eyes, breathed in the air of a luxurious being, but as much as she showed it off, the more she wanted to conceal it.

She was not just the mother of one child; she was the mother of _two_ children.

Her son lived to remember her, to _never forget her words_ and learn the lessons of her mistakes.

But her daughter lived to _never hear her words_. No goodbyes, just blatant ignorance and a mouthful of displeasures on her tongue.

How she regretted it. Her body was cold under the lack of her daughter's embrace. Her hands were hardened and crackled without the touch of her child's young fingers in a so-called _everlasting_ bond.

Her last words were of anger, of crude teaching. She punished and scorned the little girl.

But left them open and unsaid. No apology to strengthen the beating heart of a troubled kid, not a _single_ word of closure.

Azula's last image was a frown of discord and a slap across her face.

Ursa could only recall the apprehension and shame in Azula's teary, punished gold eyes. It was one of the _many_ times she had seen the socially deprived little child cry.

But _lament_ was in the darkest recesses of her mind then; so much of it was morally consumed with the pleasure of getting her way.

It _blinded_ her…

Yes, she did bear _two_ children. One grew into an honorable man of great perspicacity and valiancy.

But the other fell into the wrong hands, jagged hands that held a death grip of the purest poison. The poison of corruption that drained the purifications of the blood that pumped from the heart. The heart, tainted and flecked, shred itself from a childhood and matured into a nubile, but predatory monster, a monster that suffered the deep, inner loss of her own freedom.

In a superficial eye, it was _Ozai_ to blame, but as much as she craved that sagacious philosophy, she could not help but take it all upon herself. The weight of the anguished soul was a burden of _relief_, something she needed to release from her breast.

Yes, it was that _hunger_ that propelled her, drove her to the greatest passion of her being.

The passion of forgiveness.

The passion of destroying the monster inside her child.

The monster _she _conceived.

Her mind fluttered with the vulgar reminder of the words that were left tacit, the silence that stained the attributes of a smile, a laugh, generosity, a kind gesture.

All of that, _everything…_

Ursa's scarred lip quivered as the tears filled in her eyes. They fell to the palace floor with an inaudible pitter as she rubbed the rest away.

Regret was her finest trait. It was the one thing that kept her going, kept her alive all of those solitary years. The desire to finish the words pulled her along the rocky, hardened Earth Kingdom roads with a purpose. She was not the shadowed figure among the quaint crowd. No, she was more than that.

She was a woman of so many sins, a lady of disgrace and dishonor to her own family. She killed to benefit the enemy and ran away to benefit the son.

But what of her daughter?

She left her behind. She just needed to get the words out, to clear them from her conscience.

Just to let her baby know that she was _loved…_

Ursa closed her eyes like a clenched fist, tight and boiling, to keep her tears at bay. She tore herself of the nagging fixation and allowed herself to focus on what stood in front of her. A wrinkled red sheet illuminating the Fire Nation coat of arms shielded her from the throne room where her son was. He had summoned her presence, as he did often.

But it was never in urgency. She had felt it tensing in the wise man's tender voice.

She gave the cloth a tetchy frown and grasped it in her hand as she flipped the flimsy aegis to the sides. She entered the massive room cautiously as a graceful fire, one that did not consume the conceiver, met her. Zuko held a everlasting faith in the allowance of others to see his face. He never once immersed himself in his bending as his father did. Despite his horrendous scar, he permitted others to see him in his _real_ light, he let himself be known. He saw it as a generous welcome and not a gut-wrenching threat.

The Firelord gave a gentle beam at his mother. He stood to meet her, not allowing her to bow. He grasped her shoulders and hugged her tightly.

"Thank you for coming, Mother."

She released herself from his embrace and eyed him affectionately. Zuko placed his arm around her shoulder and directed her toward the bowel of the room, where the war-gathering table was. He gestured her to sit, which she sweetly obliged. He situated himself in front of her, giving a concerned gaze.

Zuko stretched his hands in front of him, "Mother, I have given myself a week of thought into this before I decided to speak to you about it, but there are a few odd things that I need to know."

"Anything, my son." She placed her right hand onto his, noting its nervous trembles.

"Well, for what has now been about four weeks, I have been tormented in my sleep. My dreams are impure and contaminated by the haunting images of Azula."

She raised an eyebrow, "This is a _reoccurring_ thing?"

"Yeah. She has been coming to me ever since we left the Boiling Rock. I don't know if the visitation itself is involved or if it was just an unfair coincidence, but it has really affected me on a personal level.

"I needed to get that off of my chest. I hate keeping secrets from you, as I have already spoken to the Avatar about it."

"What did he say?"

"The Avatar said that there could _possibly_ be a spiritual connection to my dreams. He suggested that perhaps Agni has disregarded me for turning against my bloodline. Agni never once disgraced his kindred, us all in the Fire Nation, but I did once I threw my sister in that horrible prison."

"So, are you starting to regret it?"

"I'm trying hard not to, but I cannot help but think that I am. Releasing her with this state in the world would be a disaster, and I will not put myself up to disregarding the Avatar's hard work, at least not yet."

"You act as if you do not trust her," Ursa squeezed Zuko's hand, "but she is _your sister_."

"Azula _always_ lies, Mother. Validity only came from her at her own benefit, you should know that," he hissed, "but I find myself incredibly bewildered anyway."

Zuko stared longingly into his mother's matching eyes. The contact was mutual, but seemingly distant, "I need you to tell me something."

Ursa nodded, but did not avert her gaze from his.

"Azula was not _always_ the way she is now, was she? She _changed_.

"How?"

The woman looked away with a barely perceptible moan, as if anticipating this moment without even a bit of amusement.

She hesitated, but spoke with an unwavering tone, "It started when Ozai and I decided to birth another child, a little more than a year after you were born. I did not immediately accept the invitation, but I was in no position to oppose him. The night we conceived her, he told me that it was his turn to raise the child. With just a single glance into your eyes when you were born, he saw your supposed weakness and threw you to me, dismissing you completely. That is why you are gentle, Zuko. You were raised by a amiable hand, but Azula was different. Her first moments of life were spent in her _father's_ arms. He saw a prodigy in her and wished to expand upon it."

"And you _allowed_ it?"

"I only allotted basic care, maternal things, but beyond that, my contact with her was minimal. Despite the fact that he was just a second-born prince, Ozai assumed more power than he physically could contain. I had no privacy with my baby, as much as I truly needed it. Once she started teething and speaking, he discharged her from my care and implicated the role himself. From there, he developed her newborn firebending, which immediately displayed the intriguing ability of a _natural-born_ prodigy."

Zuko lowered his head with a notable taste of embarrassment, which did not go unnoticed by his mother.

"Zuko, you have grown to be a great bender, as much as you may not accept it yourself. You were just a late bloomer, and there is nothing wrong with that. Many are like that, even your father was."

"Really?"

"Yes. It was Iroh that possessed the dexterity at a young age, but he turned to you, rather than Azula. You disgraced Ozai because you were a mirror of him in a sense, but you grew beyond that."

Zuko gave a small, but heartfelt smile and lowered his eyebrows. He then gave a curious expression, giving his mother the cue to continue.

"Ozai did not want his prodigy to become a shame to him, so he began training her privately, often at more intense levels than you were pushed into. This did not only increase her skill, but it gave her more time with him as a parent. But his paternal role was not as it seemed. I saw the _bruises of her failures_, the things she tried to fruitlessly tuck away. He valued _suffering_ as the mentor to his teachings and it clearly showed in her eyes. She was ashamed by the blood she often shed and I took note of it in time."

"But you did not stop it?" Zuko questioned firmly.

"It was my neediest desire, to rescue her from all of that pain and torture. I just wanted to hold her in my arms, to let her know that she was indeed loved.

"Ozai did not love his daughter, he pushed her to her own physical limits, too much for a developing child. She was still in the midst of infancy and only in a few years time; she began bending the blue fire. She was much too young for the muscle of the flame, and it is what rendered her monstrosity. I could not stop the damage that had already been inflicted, and it made me realize that I needed to protect you from it. That is where our very close relationship came from."

"So, you helped me and not her?"

"As much as I hate myself for saying this, but at the time I'd believed that the damage was done. As she aged, as you very well know, she slipped from Ozai's grasp, overpowering him with her fire."

"The desire to overtake Father is my opinion on her downfall," Zuko stated, "with the reign of the Phoenix King, she saw herself as a second, and it crushed her esteem. That's just how I see it."

"Understandable."

"She blindly exhibited notions of this intent, but a side of me still sees a lingering respect for him in her eyes, as if a part of her yearned to protect him from his fate. She was not one to disregard her genetic prowess, and from what I now learned, she was wrong about its source."

"Indeed, but it is not a matter of where it came from, Zuko, it is how she uses it."

"I know. It still hurts me to see what she did to you." Zuko eyed the deep crimson scar with a scornful snort.

He pursed his lips, "Mother…"

Ursa quickly frowned upon his noteworthy vacillation. She squeezed his hand harder with a nudge.

Zuko felt the tears scintillate his eyes, illuminating the crimson color of his restiveness, "Azula is _starving herself_. She hardly eats, and what is more, she averts her saddened gaze toward her stomach.

"Is it _regret_? Is it a token of sorrow, grief? I cannot release her, but I don't know what I would do without her."

Ursa rose from her seat and massaged Zuko's trembling shoulders. His face was buried in his arms and he choked a sob as she teased his ruffled hair, "Zuko, Azula is not a _hopeless_ cause. She is trying to tell you how she feels, to get her side out. None of us ever bothered to listen to her, and she just wishes that the words would come."

"But she is _committing suicide_, Mother," Zuko sniffled, "I can't have her do that. Despite the pain I have endured with, I can't imagine her suffering the way she is.

"But I just cannot release her, as much as it irks me."

"Zuko, it is time for you to talk to her. Use words, kindness, to coax her from the torture. She is troubled and we have both failed to give her a chance. I abandoned her long ago and now I see that this is the time to _amend_ it."

"But what if she _silences_ herself from us? What do we do then?"

Zuko's voice echoed a juvenile fear. This was an obvious representation of his whole-hearted respect for his mother. While his uncle was in Ba Sing Se, he looked up to her for much of his trepidations.

She traced her finger along the side of his face and grasped his chin, propping it upon her hand, "We'll get past that. It may take some time, but Azula will open up to reason. She knows it in her heart, that longing for adoration and love.

"There are so many words to be said, and she _will_ hear them all in time." Ursa let go of Zuko's chin and strolled out of the throne room. She pulled the red cloth but turned her head back at her son.

_"Where there is pain, there is room for healing…"_

She turned again and left without another word. The cloth swished lightly for a moment, and rested its movements smoothly.

Zuko wiped his tears and laid his head down on the table. His eyes focused in front of him without a single tense of muscle. He huffed a tiny breath of fire, similar to that of a baby dragon. He then rose and situated himself at the seat of the throne, not bothering to light it up with his flames. His mind became rigid, but warped with unreciprocated inquiries.

Who will save her soul?

Did she die a long time ago?

Will she accept us now?

But the reality of his mind could only mingle with one other question…

Was there really any hope for her resurrection…?


	10. Chapter Nine: A Mother's Deception

Chapter Nine: A Mother's Deception

Her head was spinning, her stomach churning along with it. Her eyes flicked and twitched with the pains of her predicament. She was situated in a corner in a fist-like ball, clutching her middle with her long, shivering arms.

She felt it, a wave of fluid inside her throat. Azula's body heaved as she retched violently. The spicy stomach bile splattered to the floor with an echoing splash as spittle dripped messily from her lips.

She huffed loudly and the struggled sounds reverberated off the cell's inner walls. Her body, unable to hold its weight, staggered and dropped to the floor with a thud and she rolled her eyes wearily.

_What has become of me?_

_Weakness…_

She snarled, not even bothering to lift herself off the ground. Her tired eyes wandered aimlessly around her, nostrils flaring with the smell of her gastric juices permeating the cell. The liquid stirred as it flooded into a drain in the middle of the floor.

She stared at it for what seemed to be a long period of time. She noted the hunks of undigested food from her last meal. She had been vomiting around the clock for about two full weeks and no food was able to fully make it through her digestive tract. She had heard that it was best to keep food in the system, even in the early stages of pregnancy, but the authenticity of that statement was wavering in its entirety. None of her meals had surpassed her stomach and much of it had ended up where it started, though in a less edible state.

She pondered a remedy, but found it unfeasible. Mai's mother survived much of her morning sickness with the help of ginger and lemon teas. Of course, with her lack of power, the possibility of barking that order was a low one if that at all.

Azula allowed the matter to slide past her as she began to slowly relax. She felt her dismayed body regain its consciousness, so she lifted herself off the ground, hands outstretched to the walls to hold her place. On her feet, she groped around the dark room, uneasily stepping in the messes around her. The invisible fluid mingled with her toes and she slipped and fell again to her dismay as another round of bile streamed from her mouth. She hacked up as much as she could with a dry, shrilling cough. The juice was less solidified with her lack of rations, but she dismissed the alarm and backed away from it. She crawled into her little corner and cuddled in her cot and rubbed her throat mindlessly. She noted that the acid had scorched her esophagus and left her parched, but water had already been doled out twice this day, and she knew that she would have to wait until the morning sunrise to get her much needed fill.

The moon's opposing energy seeped into her veins, exhausting her instantly. She closed her eyes and sucked in the prison's poisonous air. The action's undesired effect had her in a coughing spell again but it soon wore off with her lethargic circumstances. Her head found her flat pillow and she pressed her knees up into her slightly tender breasts. She tightened the ball and shivered with the chilling, sinister air. The place was much colder at night, as if the coolers were left open to freeze the hot Fire Nation atmosphere. She frowned at the thought of those cold hunks of bitter metal. She had found herself inside them a few times in her early days in the Boiling Rock, but as the warden said, her strong-willed nature left her in time.

_And I fell into silence, a state by which all of my actions were to be cured by._

_But it was not to be…_

She dismissed the memory and sleep tugged at her eyelids and pulled them down. Her breathing rhythm became more relaxed with the nature of slumber, and she quietly prayed to the spirits, hoping that she could finally sleep a whole night.

_Great Agni, with your soul of fire and love for my nation, bless me with the rest I so whole-heartedly deserve…_

Her eyeballs bulged and her pupils dilated as a wave of nausea split her of her prayers. She splattered the sheets and pillow, unable to aim it in another direction.

_The pain…_

The seething ache engulfed her stomach in a tart flame. Her arms clutched at her shirt as she unconsciously attempted to scratch the pain away. Her labored breathing was obviously excruciating and she felt a scream exit from her lungs. The loud, piercing yelp rang in her ears and she understood its helplessness.

_I am weak…_

_Subordination…_

_The child…_

_The one inside of me has taken over me…_

_Something so small, but yet, so powerful and captivating at the same time._

_Am I soulfully allowing myself to fight for a greater cause? For a better purpose?_

_Am I one to disrupt the nature of this new being?_

_Is there any need to suffer, to endure this torture?_

Tears flooded her open eyes and fell to the floor, mixing with the putrid juices that coated it. She choked up her sobs and breathed arduously, the aches stabbing at her stomach like a dagger to the heart. The sour acid bubbled and pushed up her throat so she opened her mouth and let out another stream. The pain, so raw and terrible, caused her to shout again.

_Helpmehelpmehelpme!_

Her mind twisted in its ecstasy. Her inaudible words crushed together and left her head twirling. She slapped her skull into the floor with a thump as saliva coated her parched lips. Her tongue dangled at the corner of her mouth, dripping the clear liquid onto her cheeks.

A commanding knock.

The door to her cell opened to a large masculine figure. The man unlocked the barred cage between them and he strolled in authoritatively. His stoic eyes revealed nothing but cold-heartedness, and a tingle of irritation.

The figure's nose snuffed the rancid air and quickly laid eyes on its source. He nodded at it without averting his gaze, gesturing for the janitorial unit to handle it.

The warden.

Azula's agitation wavered to a more vulnerable state. Her eyes gave a frightened look to her, but she ignored the submissive gesticulation and waited for the warden to speak his mind.

"Princess Azula, once a great icon to this nation, the destined heir. But look at you, _coexisting_ with your own bodily fluids, quite a horrendous jump, don't you think?

"You had a destiny, a state of tremendous prowess. But you disbanded your veneration for your father, and look where it put you." His hand swiped the air around him, taking in the tiny scenery.

"I once called myself a _Loyalist_, and frankly, though I cannot admit aloud, I sill am. But that admiration is behind me now. You and your father _reaped what you sowed_, and you rightfully deserve it.

"You, Princess Azula, were one to _unconsciously_ inflict pain onto others, one to heartlessly kill without the slightest recoil. In which case, I have _no _pity for you. You are nothing, just another face in the prison walls, another name in the record books.

"Nothing. You earn no rewards from me, and I see no shame in your own distress.

"Of what use are you to the Fire Nation? The light is at the end of the tunnel, Azula, and then, taxpayer money will not go toward your well-being. I see you have not eaten in a few weeks. Are you _starving_ yourself? Suicide is cowardly, you know. Living out the pains of your life brings more honor than terminating them before their rightful end.

"But it is your decision. But think about _whom_ you are doing it for. Is this an act of self-reliance, or rather, an act of common benefit? People put all of their hard energies into your existence. It is not fair to cheat them out like that, is it?"

Azula did not answer him, but his prodding flashed a bit of curious fancy. Her head lowered at its inconsiderateness, but it did nothing to cease her interest.

_Apparently, his mind is elsewhere. As of now, he is not a threat to my secrets, but with the months of imminent change to come, I am sure he will be quite an obstacle._

_Do not let your guard down, girl. He is the warden, one who knows every crackle in the foundation of this place. Words leak, and actions reveal themselves. Chan's little bit of elation cannot hide forever._

_The baby will still be born, alive or not. He will find out eventually._

_Do not think about that now. It is best to stall its seepage for as long as you can._

She sized up her options and nodded in response to her internal voice, giving the warden a stony stare.

The warden smiled in return, shifting his weight lightly. He turned his back to her, and spoke privately with a few of his present guards. Nodding, the armed males strapped their arms around the distraught and disgruntled princess and dragged her out of her prison cell without even the slightest concern for her growing sickness and obvious discomfort.

"Someone just wants a word with you, Azula." The warden barked. The tone was not antagonistic, nor was it conciliatory. It revealed nothing of his intention and the agitation made its way into the princess' mind.

_Unhand me this instant! I am not a toy to your insolent satisfaction!_

_Careful, there is more in me than you know for now…_

She dismissed it and cooperated with them, not on the aspect of defeat, but rather, on more of a note of temptation. They had not revealed their purposes, and the unanswered questions lingered, just waiting to be plucked. The delicious feelings of knowledge brought about a sense of conquer to her fluttering heart, but it eradicated quickly when her eyes wandered to her destination.

_That dark little room…_

The interrogation chamber opened its mouth to the princess like an ominous black hole. She was thrown into it callously, but she understood that her secret kept her from well-deserved treatment. Her face slammed into a _notorious_ wooden chair, and the impact sent her to the ground. She licked her dry lips and rose unsteadily, using the arms of the chair for necessary balance. Once on her feet, she sauntered into it and sat down melodiously, regaining her pristine royal posture. Her steady eyes glowered forward, noting that she was indeed, alone.

_What, is this my hour of solitary confinement?_

But her isolation did not last.

The door to the room opened to two familiar faces. One was plainly shorter than the other, and had a more feminine build.

"Azula."

Zuko's voice chilled her body and sent a shiver down her prickled spine. He stepped forward, his companion mirroring him. The girl gave an impassive; blind stare at the princess, obviously not concerning herself with the royal humdrums of the Fire Nation high class.

Azula gave an eye of resent at the sightless teenager, remembering the tomboyish doll as nothing more than an inconsiderate, filthy, common slob, despite her genetic line in the Bei Fong family.

She glanced coyly at Zuko, giving an eye of wonder as to why the blind girl was even there.

"It was just a few weeks ago when we last talked, Azula, and I have a few more things that I'd like to say." Zuko stated condemningly.

Azula wheezed, her rasping throat getting to her, "What makes you so sure that I am willing to bargain now?" she requested, "And why have you brought _this _commoner with you? What of Mai? Was she just too depressing for you? Did you rip out her heart again?"

"She is back in the palace city," Zuko answered, "looking over the nation while I spend my time here with you."

"You haven't answered me. Why did you bring the girl? Why do you think I would want to speak to her as well? You are one in enough of my troubles, I don't need an _audience_."

"I am _not_ a low-class citizen," Toph grumbled, slapping the earthy ground with her feet, "I come from one of the richest families in the Earth Kingdom."

"Right, right. I don't need to hear your little attempt at my respect." Azula slyly rolled her tired eyes.

Zuko stood directly in front of her, casting a shadow onto her slender figure.

"Look, Azula, you are free to move about the room. We decided to give you a taste of liberation out of generosity. I just want us to be on the same level together. We are both siblings, children to the same parents. We are equals, and in this right, despite the actions of the world, we can remain that way.

"Understand?"

She nodded, but still curious, "Answer my question, Zuko. Stop trying to change the subject on me. I am not a lowly pupil. If we truly _are _equals, then I have a right to know the solutions to my issues.

"Doesn't that seem fair?"

Zuko turned and faced Toph. He touched her shoulder, signaling for her to explain her proposition.

The teenager crossed her arms and spat at the ground. She cleared her throat, "Remember back on the Day of Black Sun, when you surpassed my ability to detect deception?"

Azula smiled to her statement, recalling upon that happy memory.

Toph continued, "It got me thinking that maybe I need to hone in on a few of my known skills. In the last three years, I have immersed myself in the studies of kinesics, or in other words, body language. Vibrations from heartbeats and breathing patterns are not completely liable for determining dishonesty. I have learned that there is much more to it than that. Though I am blind, I have been training myself to perceive bodily movement as a stress reaction. Twiddling fingers, crossing legs, unfocused gaze, all of these are illusory notions on an accused. I am here to determine whether or not you can stick to the truth. Don't try your silly tricks again, my knowledge is far greater than yours."

"Oh, really? Well then, I'll just have to try a little harder now.

"I _love_ a challenge."

She gave a wicked, crooked smile and placed her hands in her lap. With the initiation, Toph slammed her feet hard into the floor, as if to add an extra _grip_ onto the bodily sensations. Azula courteously waited for Zuko to begin the interview, though she already knew where he was going with it.

"Azula, our last meeting was not the best in all instances. It has left me tattered and our relationship as siblings in a complete standstill. I understand your hesitation to speak with me, but all of that is behind me now. I do not dwell in our past problems, as I have forgiven you long ago.

"I am trying to grow up, to mature into a better man, but how can I do that if I continue to hold my grudges toward you?"

"Don't bother playing that condescending card, Zuzu," Azula sneered, "I cannot easily forgive you. I am not like our uncle, from whom I am sure you developed the dexterity of leniency."

"Okay, you caught me. I _am_ here to clear the name of our quarrels, but that is not _wrong_."

Azula rose from the chair, the sudden movement being a startle on her brother. She encircled him, noting his physical growth from a measly child to a shrewd, astute man. She gave a nod to herself, a simple gesture of keen understanding. With her sightseeing over, she slumped back into the chair.

"Of course it's not entirely _wrong_, but it sends a message of weakness to me."

She propped her elbow on an arm of the chair, easing her comfort level on a minute distinction.

She tensed, "Just get on with it. I am not remotely interested in your scheme, but you have my attention."

Zuko stuttered and breathed laboriously. Toph could easily sense his nervousness, but she remained with an unwavering eye on her intended prey.

The Firelord pushed on, "I have been dreaming of you, not in a whimsical, quirky way, but a personal, righteous one. For weeks, you have consumed me with doubts of my actions among other seemingly important things."

She laughed generously, but she quickly smirked, "How sentimental. The Firelord has a feeling of regret for once."

"I have regretted many an action in my life, Azula. More than you will ever hear from me." He frowned stressfully at his sister, giving her a benefit of uncertainty.

"I meant for _me._"

_Is this my chance? Should I tell him everything and hope for the best?_

_Why risk it? Just listen to him, girl. Let him tell you what you so hungrily long to hear._

_Perhaps the secrets of your temptations have nothing to do with this._

_Let that drive you…_

Zuko contemplated her words and changed the subject; "The warden has been updating me on your progress, and the psychoanalysts have given me full proof of their diagnosis," he said coolly, "but schizophrenia sounds like a tall order on you, don't you think?"

Toph had taught the Firelord that making small talk with the accused was the best way to get under their skin. Understanding their problems on an intimate level was a key component in gaining their elusive trust. He prodded into the earthbender's lesson, and gave Azula a light, conversational tone of voice.

She snarled, "Save your flattery. I do _not_ have that horrendous, mindlessly lustful disease! I am perfectly sane!"

Zuko remained unfazed, "Comprehensible for an accused, such as yourself. I know it is hard to admit to your mistakes, I have faced that on a number of occasions. But admit you must. I have confidence in a medical professional's opinion, but I wish to trust you as well."

_Try me, Zuko. I have lied to you so many times. Have you not learned from your dreadful mistakes?_

_Does the finicky earthbender give you the self-assurance in your words? Is she your extra layer of protection against me?_

_Pitiful to put your life on another like that._

She ignored the insight, despite the nagging, "Alright. How do you plan to gain my faith in you? Externally, I see you as a threat to my crown, that shining diadem that you boastfully wear upon your head. Internally, you are my polar opposite, so weak and simple-minded, uncomplicated and one-dimensional. We share nothing in common, except the blood that courses through our veins, but this is rivalry for you."

She sighed longingly, "Give it to me."

Zuko turned to face Toph. She nodded, feeling his motion and understanding the conversation between him and his sister. With his attention diverted, he coursed the room, pacing the perimeter with an unassailable presence. He then faced his sister again, leaning closer into her chair, invading her personal boundaries. She gave an acerbic frown, representing her detestation of the motion.

But neither could stop the unification of their eyes, so seemingly longing, but devastating at the same time. Zuko took the emotions gently, and gave the princess a chivalrous smile. The flex of the facial muscle was tender and optimistic, all in the hopes to break her rivaled barrier.

But she did not look on it lightly. Her teeth compressed in an almost painful scowl and she gave him her rebuff in the form of a riled slap across his face.

_I did not ask for your sympathy! I need only your information, not the gestures of inquisition that you have presented._

Zuko's lip curled and his boiling rage, but the feeling left him as Toph's hand brushed against his back. He nodded at the sensation, recalling his duty to his sister.

His hand involuntarily rubbed at the red mark, "A munificent smile is not something you _reprimand_, Azula. Can't you for once accept a little kindness in your life? Why live out this endless torture?

"Let it go.

"For me."

_I should listen to him. My hate is the result of Father's instruction._

_And isn't it Father's fault that I am in this mess?_

_Is he to blame for the baby in my womb?_

_None of this should be put on Zuko. Father disrespects him as well._

_Perhaps there is more to our kindred than even I know…_

She peered up into his cordial gold eyes. Though his scar depleted an expression of charity, she easily detected the genial need that resonated off of them.

She offered a quick nod, "Just for now, Zuko."

Zuko gave the smile that got him into trouble, but he kept himself out of her reach, out of her defense zone.

He sighed, "Look, I just want to know something I dismissed as a boy.

"What was _your_ childhood like, Azula? What did Father _really_ do to you?"

Azula gave a dubious reaction to the question. The fact that she was surprised was a bit of a hardship on her quintessence, but the pain was mutual and she calmly slipped it in between her fingers.

"Your question is a little unrealistic, but on a matter of _opinion…_"

"Don't stall this, Princess," Toph barked, "Just give him what he wants."

Zuko was disheartened by the earthbender's cruelty, but the meaning was beneficial to him. It was often known that an accused would often stall time with misleading notations, including opinionated statements. By utilizing that exact word, Toph pointed out the deception harshly, though the action angered Azula more than what was desired.

"If you would _let _me finish, maybe I could give him the needed information."

Toph took this reply in the context of her misunderstanding of kinesics. It was commonly understandable, but the teenager shut her mouth and allowed Zuko to proceed.

He obliged the invitation, "Go on, Azula."

Azula waited for the blind girl to say something, but her lips were completely sealed.

"Father respected my strengths. I was strong-willed and aggressive, where you were passive and unreliable. On the note of a first failure, he took me in as to not contaminate me. As you probably know, Father trained me privately, even though I was already at the _top_ of my class at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls. It intensified my endurance and turned me into his perfect prodigy."

She smiled courtly, satisfied with her words.

"She's not telling us everything…" Toph snorted.

Zuko was disgruntled, "Toph's right. There is more to it than that. I'm not looking to give you compliments for being a great firebender. Why are you so crude, Azula? Why did you change?"

"Such intimate, personal questions…"

"Stick to the story, sister." Toph butted in.

Azula panted, feeling another wave of nausea hit her. The gagging reflex responded to the stimulus, but in the intensity of the circumstance, she swiftly swallowed it, feeling it burn up her innards like the fire she breathed.

She coughed, "Fine. Father _did_ hurt me. He cut me up so bad that I bled internally. I hid bruises and burns, but this was not seen as malice. I saw it as a lesson to my faults and an incentive to improve my skills. I was taught to be a brute. Father told me that kindness doesn't get one anywhere. Sincerity and liberality are signs of compliance and submissiveness, gestures of total mental weakness and defeat. Mother built your structure upon this method and it obviously corrupted you. Whereas, I have the keeness of judgment to see the wrongness of that."

"Goodness is not a symbol of wrongdoing."

"That is why I lie, Zuko," Azula said, completely oblivious to Zuko's interruption, "truth is kept to oneself, _for_ oneself."

"You're lying. You _have_ told some valid words in your life. Now, I know that Father's inflicted pains had more of a negative affect on you. Care to dive a little _deeper_ for me?"

"Yeah, I can feel your hesitation with my feet." Toph stated abruptly.

Azula lowered her head in utter defeat. The cornered feeling in her heart threatened her personally. Though she had been in many sticky situations in her life, she was not at all prepared for this one. Despite the pride of plot that she once had, she felt that she would have to be reduced to playing by ear. She took into consideration that Toph could sense her dithering words, and she deduced that it was best to reveal her past.

"I cried. It hurt. I was too young to register the pain as something good for me. Father truly was a malicious man. He gained happiness by beating me down, destroying me from the inside out.

"I admit. I should have backed away from it, but of what use was that to me? He watched me with his nasty eyes. They never left my side. Straying would have been deadly and with each try I suffered the consequences."

"So my dreams _are_ true. But I also learned that Mother was not allowed to see to your care. Am I right about that?"

She relented, "Yes. I barely remember intimacies with Mother. I don't recall ever loving her as a parent. Father brainwashed me with propaganda that stated her failures. I regret not getting to know her personally, but despite these discrepancies, a part of me believes that she _did_ hate me.

"You remember. She saw me as a monster.

"And what's worse: she didn't even say goodbye…"

Azula's tears slithered down her face. The heavy pools of water angered her inside, but the painful memory took up most of her emotions. She moaned loudly, taking in the realities of her mother's true nature.

Zuko placed a steady hand on her left shoulder. He patted it gently, easing her out of her crying spell. Her scintillating eyes shined helplessly at him, and he put his hands at her face and wiped the wetness away.

_One of power dries the tears of another…_

"Azula. Mother loved you and she still does. Though you may have placed a permanent wound on her, she still has a heart for you."

"But why did she fail to give me a bit of closure? Why did she say goodbye to _you_ and not me?"

Zuko did not have an answer to her question. He let an air of silence pass through the room, creating a need to speak.

"I'm sorry. That's just something Mother never told me."

Azula took that as an insult but she did nothing to expose that feeling.

"Look, there is something else I'm wondering about," Zuko stuttered, "but… lift up your shirt."

"What?" Azula unveiled the insult bubbling inside of her.

Zuko was incredibly uneasy with his words, "Just do it."

Azula grumbled and did as he said. Her fingers tightly clasped around her shirt and lifted it just below her breasts.

The Firelord gazed at her ribcage and nodded suddenly. He took in the emaciation grimly and the expression on his face depicted it.

With his nod, she let go of the tattered clothing and let it fall to her waist. She smoothed out the wrinkles fastidiously, still allotting notions of royalty.

Zuko let her finish and began to speak again, "You need to eat."

"I eat enough."

"Then why are you so _thin_? In my dreams, you were completely emaciated. Every protruding bone in your body was under almost no skin at all. I see that _here_, too."

"I'm telling you, Brother, I eat all of my meals…"

"Quit with the hesitating," Toph shouted, "it's getting on my nerves."

"Just let me finish: all that I eat does not even surpass my stomach. I throw it all up.

"I am _sick_, Zuko."

"So you lied to me. I thought we were _equals_."

"I still told you something. Don't take advantage of my generosity."

"Have you told anyone at all?"

"No, but I think the _warden_ has been given the hint."

"I'll buy that."

"You want to know a little secret, Zuko? Before Uncle left for Ba Sing Se, he visited me in prison. He said that you experienced an unnatural sickness and called it an _internal metamorphosis_. He told me that I would soon experience one myself. Apparently, I see this as the omen of my own personal change."

Zuko connected this to the prison murder in an instant, "So, _who_ did this to you? I was influenced by the Avatar's bison. What caused your bodily war?"

Azula rose from the chair and stared up into her brother's eyes. The disadvantage of her height gave a look of submission but it did nothing to falter her. Her body and breasts pushed against his chest almost passionately, and she rubbed her nose and lips under his chin lovingly and purred in his ear.

She pressed her pelvis into his groin, mutely stating her answer…

Zuko recoiled at her gesture, though the pain was minimal. He watched as she strode past him. She opened the door to the guards.

"I am ready to go back to my cell now."

The warden and the two male guards grabbed at her arms and tugged her away from the interrogation chamber. She turned quickly to catch a last glimpse at her brother. She laughed to herself, feeling the satisfaction of getting him back for his sexual gesture.

But she knew in her heart that the kick was more than payback…

The guards threw the dispossessed princess back into her now clean cell. She sat down in her bed and laid a smile across her face.

_You die with your secrets…_


	11. Chapter Ten: Waves of Memory

Chapter Ten: Waves of Memory

It had been months, endless months. So many months, that Azula had dreadfully lost count. The time had been dull and normal: her assigned guard visited her every single day, never missing an opportunity to pitifully poke fun at the dispossessed princess, but despite the constant, unwavering dedication to time, she lost it one day. She did not know how or when, what or why.

She was clueless to it.

_What was robbed of me this time?_

_My throne, honor, title, sanity, freedom…_

_My innocence…_

_What more can I possibly lose?_

Her mind did not remember anymore…

_My memory…_

Her tokens of her travels, the jewels of her victories, the truths of her logic, those precious, priceless things that were once nestled deep in her mind had lost their shimmering sheen, their brilliant color, their fabric of existence.

There was a frown where a smile once was. In all of her time in the rotten prison, snapshots were all she had, snapshots of all that was not worth her thoughts.

All of the detestation in her life, the venom of fatality, the schemes of manipulation…

_The unfathomable temptations of my curiosity, the tear of innocence like a slit to the throat, the mortality of the inner flesh, the baby of my womb._

_Yes, the baby of my womb…_

She was quite a few months along, nearing the beginning of her third trimester, as was her best guess. The insomniac in her eyes stared at her unseen, invisible baby. Her soft hands rubbed against her tight stomach, taking note of how little she had grown. Her ribcage was still quite more prominent than her pregnant abdomen, as were her full breasts. The soothing sensation of her touch was pleasing, gentle no doubt. Her eyes had slowly closed as a relaxing calm took over her distractions.

_Maybe for once, this child is a beautiful miracle._

_Maybe the burden is worth much more than I give it._

A tiny, faint kick gave her a sudden jolt. The lack of room in her uterus gave the baby a need to protest. The child had done this a multitude of times before, but the perplexities and wonders of it had not ceased to amaze her.

_Over a course of months, this child went from an embryo to a fetus, remaining entirely human and untouched throughout the whole process._

_I was that way once._

_Pure and innocent, my once prideful attributes, had left me with age._

_Why did I allow the earth to taint me so? Why did I allow Father to bend my body to unthinkable limits?_

_Why did I allow Chan to steal my virginity?_

_Why do I carry his child in this prison?_

The memories were pushing so hard against her brain that a headache gripped her skull. She placed a hand on her sweaty forehead, taking in her bodily heat. For the betterment of comfort, she rolled over onto her left side and propped her head on her elbow to add on some leverage. She unconsciously recalled that she had learned that this position did not cut off blood supply to the uterus, as do the many others. She took a breath of fire and it streamed out of her nostrils. She was overjoyed that her vomiting had ceased quite long ago, and it had not bothered her since. Though of course, she still had the lingering doubt of being caught pregnant. She had never felt comfortable with her situation to blatantly admit it to the warden.

_The silly ass in him would see it as playful banter, reckless conversation._

_This is my secret._

_Our secret…_

The thought gave her a nudge into recalling the first time she had met Chan, on that Ember Island beach, not so long ago. The instant their eyes met he gave a flicker of hope to her cause; she gazed wondrously at it even after they had unlocked the vision. Once she had heard his name, she recalled his powerful father, a tremendous ally to Ozai and the Fire Nation's naval forces. From the moment her feet stepped into Chan's home, she clumsily flirted with him; she deduced it to be a fluttering heartbeat that had overwhelmed her.

_But inside my head, all of this unclaimed bouncing._

_There is more to it, more to it than silly words._

_I questioned it the night he took my innocence._

_Had I loved him then? On the beach, up on that wooden porch, did we kiss in passionate adoration? Did I take in the warmth of his form, press my hands upon his skin, seal his lips into my own?_

_Oh, memory, come back to me evermore…_

Her ears pricked to the sounds of rushing water, waves pushing and pulling against the night moon's unbreakable force.

_And my eyes saw those waves that night. My eyes saw the sand that it rushed toward. My eyes saw a few loving couples that resided down upon it to confess their love to one another._

_But why could I not?_

_Why did the words not come?_

_Why did I fall silent?_

_Is this the reason why I did not utter a word to Zuko? Because I knew that my shyness would scare them away?_

_Memory…_

Her mind began to twist on her. A dusty form of a picture appeared in front of her. She saw herself in Chan's enveloping embrace, hair flailing down her face.

_It seems so innocent, kind, friendly._

But he was on top of her, pushing, grabbing, hurting her. His hands were massive, tightly gripped at the collar of her shirt in an angry stranglehold. Tears were in her eyes; they flowed down onto her slightly taut shirt. She gazed at him, confused at his ruthless gestures, but _closer_, closer, their faces almost touched.

_But his eyes…_

Her own eyes widened wildly. Her heart pulsated with a strenuous effort; she felt it seem to jump into her throat, cutting away at her voice. She tried to let the pain out but the jargon left no audible sound for ears to hear. She could see the bars of her cage swirl around her, constricting her form in the tiny cell as it seemed to swallow her whole.

_But his eyes…_

She took a deep, dark look into those eyes.

She squinted to the vision, noting that those eyes were not in love, they weren't even Chan's.

_Father…_

_"I need a suitor, an heir to the throne. That is all I ask of you."_

She turned away from him in disgust, crossing her arms at his figure, perhaps her first gesture at _rebellion_ against him.

_I listened to you, Father; I gave in to your will, your command._

_I gave in to the Loyalists that serve you, the proud Admiral Chan and his son._

_His son…_

_The one I now love…_

_There, I admitted it._

In all of those months that she had spent alone, in all of those months that she had spent in ignorance of her heart, she felt a burden lift away from her chest.

In her victory, she took in the newly formed frown on her father's lips. He pursed his lips and scowled at her, his jaw clenching at the sides of his mouth. At that, he disintegrated, leaving no trail to his existence.

Azula sighed in relief, letting the airflow in and out of her lungs. She stood up and gave herself a pat on the back.

_No more, Father._

_In this bloody war of loyalty, the conception of this child was not in your hands. Your influence in Chan did not rub off onto me. I have it in me to commit mutiny to you, as you are not the dominant in my life anymore._

_Chan is the only one who can dominate me now. It is not out of surrender, not out of lack of dexterity and breath._

_It is out of love._

Chan's harmonious voice began to play in her head, the memory was slowly returning to her.

"_Let it be known that someone finally conquered you…"_

_You…_

_Let it be known…_

_Yes, yes, I will…_

She began to scream out in a _faked_ rage. The tossed herself recklessly, but assuring her baby's safety the whole time. Her hands slapped against the walls as she yelled and slobbered, giving quite a performance that even impressed her.

Her normal guard, the _silly_ woman, gave a questionable look to her. Even she understood that Azula, at her lack of memory, had returned to silence. This show was quite out of the ordinary, considering her constant mental state.

"What, princess?" she barked menacingly.

Azula, with _Crocodile Tears_ running down her face, stared almost helplessly at her. She then smiled, the first the guard had seen from her, and she put her face right up to the bar. This startled the guard; she stepped back to prove it.

"For so many months, you have taunted me, distressed me, brought me into an endless anger, but enough of it.

"I am _done_ with you, guard. I never needed supervision, and as the Fire Nation's princess, I _request_ the presence of the warden."

Azula shot her fist out at the girl, wishing that her _finger_ would stick up too, but she controlled her rage.

"Bring him here, I have something I need to tell him."

The guard stuttered, "A-ah of course…Princess."

Azula watched as she left. She then backed away from the bars of the cell and sat back, questioning herself, almost reprimanding herself.

_What was that, girl? This is uncharted territory. Do you honestly believe that the warden will even believe you?_

_All of this for Chan? What happened to that vigor of dominance in you? Why would you admit that Chan is your superior?_

_Where did the real Fire Nation princess go?_

The sound of shuffling feet interrupted her. She peered up as the door to her cell opened. The warden, prideful and gallant, entered and the frown on his face showed that the disruption had clearly bothered him.

He unlocked the cage stepped in front of her. He spat at the floor and puckered his lips, his chin wrinkling with his age.

"Why have you called on me, Princess? Make this quick, I'm not interested at all in conversing with you."

Azula gave no distressed reaction to his words; she remained straight-faced as if she were speaking with Koh, the Face-Stealer.

She then spoke, "Listen Warden. I have been hiding something that I am now willing to reveal."

"What?"

She swiftly took a tight hold on the warden's hand and pressed it against her stomach. The awkward position took its toll on the warden; he felt the beads of sweat form on his forehead.

Azula took a deep breath and closed her eyes, keeping his hand where she had placed it.

Her mind raced for words, but she settled on the appropriate phrase quickly.

"Tell Zuko."

The warden withdrew his hand from the disposed princess, "Tell him what?"

She smirked at this, "You mean that it isn't obvious?

"Tell the Firelord that he is going to be an uncle…"


	12. Chapter Eleven: Irony of Revelation

Chapter Eleven: Irony of Revelation

In just one day, Azula had been moved to the medical wing of the prison to be constantly supervised for the remaining duration of her pregnancy. She had requested that Firelord Zuko not reveal the news to his adoring public, as she did not yet wish to divulge into the murder case. She wondered if Zuko then understood the meaning to her _nudity_ on the night of the murder, if he had made the connection of _rape_. She did not dig into it, realizing that she would soon find out with her due date so close.

The doctors had given her the updates on her progress. She was just in to her eighth month, not too far from her initial guess.

Not surprisingly, she had also been more willing to speak, more willing to converse with her superiors, more willing to _allow_ others into her heart.

Azula took it all in quite well, despite her fragile mental state. There was still an air of hesitation in the warm voices of her peers; they were still fearful of a psychological destruction. The physical changes in a pregnant woman were easy to intertwine with the mental ones. The vomiting, food cravings/refusals, swollen breasts, all of those things, had mingled into her overly emotional personality change.

Azula _questioned_ her sanity. She had firmly admitted her perfections for so long that the accusations had finally falsified. She took it in as realization of her overwhelming feelings. She wondered aimlessly if her anger would _return_ once her baby was born, once the umbilical cord was cut and physical separation occurred. Her father was another one to question. Her mutiny to him had relieved her; the vision of him had no chance of returning without a fight of will inside of her.

With a silent congratulation, Azula rose from her warm, cozy bed. The move into the medical facility was quite a reward, a benefit to her stature in the gene pool of reality. She lifted the thick-layered cover off of her skin and stood, stretching her body with immense pleasure. The place had no windows, its only shortfall. That flicker of desire that she had had from the beginning was still strong inside of her heart. The sun, the mentor to her blue flame, was blocked away, but it still thrilled her with its energy.

She put her hands to the walls, white and pristinely cleaned; a more pleasing hue than the lifeless, drowning red color inside her prison cell. Her eyes wandered at the tools of the place, metal, seemingly menacing. The silver shine they gave off was illuminating and it eerily reminded her of the drill that had punctured the Great Wall of Ba Sing Se. She touched them in naïve interest, taking in the wonders of their purposes. She remembered being poked and prodded at as a child at her family physician's office, but the childish worries left her for the traumas of real life.

She continued to make a round across the perimeter of the room, taking in every detail of it, just to get the other cell's dreaded memories out of her mind. She took a finger and slid it, noting that there was not even a speck of dust.

She swelled with a rebirth of pride. The thought that the warden had the place cleaned just for _her_ brought her back to the successes of being the Fire Nation's princess.

_But don't get too cocky, girl. Your role in the Fire Nation brought you to your downfall at the feet of a peasant._

_Silence, _she whispered. She had realized that she had the power to control that voice that had occupied her. Though the cackling tone was her _own conscience_, the rebellious woman was not one to let silly dreams and false images to control her very essence anymore.

_Don't consider this respect forever, girl. Luck always runs out because brains can only get you so far._

Azula waved the voice away with a stiff fist. As if _maternally_ inclined, she rubbed the hand on her belly, an involuntarily repeated act. She felt the warmth on her skin and again took her residence on her bed. Lying down, she turned to her left side and let sleep take away all the stress. The first night she had spent in this room gave her the greatest pleasures of peace. The bags under her eyes disappeared the next morning; she was finally well rested. This night she wished to repeat it.

In about fifteen minutes or so, her body had shut down and she was in full slumber. Her ears were oblivious to sounds; her heart was oblivious to stress.

She slept with a_ sincere_ smile.

In the middle of the tranquility, an uneasy ache resided at her lower abdomen, very close to her groin. It startled her, but she dismissed it. It was a sporadic pain that felt similar to a bout of heartburn. She gripped herself as a precaution, but she was barely into her eighth month.

_Pregnancy lasts nine months, right?_

_Dismiss this. It is nothing, just common stomach upset._

The pain lasted for a short duration of time, five minutes or so. Smiling upon its withdrawal, she fumbled over the covers and slipped into them, capturing her warmth that still lingered.

But the door to her room opened without even a knock of permission. It swung swiftly, almost hitting the wall with its tremendous force. A hand was outstretched in front of it, holding it in place as a crowd gathered.

Azula rubbed her eyes.

_I just get one night of serenity, and now this? Great Agni, has my luck run out?_

Zuko and Ursa then stood next to each other. Their faces mirrored the same frown as if each were a part of _one_ reflection.

_So, Mother, you are alive. Memory doubted me for quite a long time._

_But it does not mean that I respect you or even forgive you._

Behind the two, Aang, Katara, Sokka, Suki, Toph, and Mai made their way into the clean room. They all gave Azula blank faces, no reaction to anything or anyone around them.

_This cast returns to me._

_Why now?_

"We got the message, Azula," Zuko rasped, "the warden told me all about it."

She smirked, "Oh, _really_? Then what is your take on it?"

He shrugged, "I hold no comment."

"Depressing, Zuko. I always thought that you had a soft spot in your heart. Is that the _one thing_ you are going to say to your _unborn_ blood relative?"

"Not now Azula. I have reviewed the murder case and connected it to the exact time of conception. I am sure that the warden told you how far along you are."

"Yes, I already got that memo," Azula snapped, "Now would you _please_ excuse me? I would like to get back to sleep."

"Just wait on it. This is important. Now that I assuredly know that there was a male involved, would you care to tell me who?"

She snorted, "No."

"Why not? It's not as if the worry is over once the kid is born. The father _will_ be hunted down by all means necessary.

"Don't try to prevent the inevitable, Azula."

"I am not the one to reveal it. Did the warden tell you that I wasn't going into this?"

"My word _overrules_ his and especially yours."

"That's not really kind for you to say, being that you are in a position to_ bargain_."

The stress brought the pain back again, slightly more abrupt and excruciating. Her legs buckled, but the motion was concealed.

She then stared at her protruding middle, questioning her pains to an impending birth.

That voice that taunted her reiterated a reprimanding speech to her, not ignoring the fact that repetition of her inquiries was _not_ at all helpful.

Azula's right eye twitched and the voice disappeared. She then walked up to her brother, pressing her stomach against him, creating a gap between them. Zuko thought that he might have felt a _kick_ from the child; embarrassment reddened his cheeks. Ursa stared helplessly at this, but did nothing to stop her. Her only reaction was a questionable stare at her daughter's obvious physical change.

The princess took a snapping gaze at her mother, frowning in discontent. She then looked away, peering deep into Zuko's eyes. She grabbed the collar of his robe, taking no offence in choking the Firelord.

The Avatar and his cronies stood defensively at her aggression, the benders holding up their respected elements in case of an attack that was not coming to them.

She shrugged them off in ignorance, "Listen, Zuzu, if you want something from me, I suggest that you try a little kindness."

Her breath was hot against him, quite foul and pungent as well. Her teeth were slightly yellowed. Zuko didn't wish to give in to her. Facts and knowledge overruled fear when it came to dealing with the fiery princess.

His teeth clenched in response to her voice, as if he yearned to bite at her to make her go away.

"Let go of me. I command it."

"Don't try that on me. I am no less powerful than you are, if not more. Want me to teach you another lesson? I'd love it if you would _disrobe_ yourself so I can see your wound. To show off what sibling rivalry does to the weakest link."

"Forget it. Unhand me," he gripped at her tight fingers and pulled them off of his collar. He gasped for air for a brief period and squeezed her wrists as a small punishment.

Seeing this, Ursa scurried forward. She shook her head at Zuko and he let go of his sister. It all seemed quite childish to Azula: Mother single-handedly ceasing their quarrels.

The pain was quick to come back; the intensity almost knocked her off of her feet, but she kept her composure. The time in between them was lessoning from five minutes to about three, though Azula ignored it of course. Her mother was a much more important target of her attention.

The females caught each other in a distant stare. Azula's was more hesitant; her eyes were _less than willing_ to let her mother in.

Ursa made the first move, touching her daughter on the shoulder. She then wrapped her arms around those shoulders; embracing Azula with all of that bubbling regret that brewed inside of her heart for so long.

Azula's face scrunched at this, unable to comprehend this as an act of compassion.

_Forgiveness does not come to you like this. You can't turn back the tides; turn back the time that we lost as a family._

_None of it will return, none of it ever will…_

_All of it is gone: no goodbye, no love in your eyes. How do you expect me to act?_

She took it as a blow to her tortured soul, fracturing it further and further. Azula struggled in Ursa's arms, flailing madly just to get out of them. The _claustrophobia_ was intense and uncomfortable.

The middle-aged woman frowned and let go of her.

Azula smiled and quickly smoothed the wrinkles out of her shirt, her hands sliding over her stomach.

Time had a way of making things meaningful, a way of falsifying coincidence…

The wetness oozed from her. The pink, blood-like liquid poured down her legs and felt as cold as ice in the middle of hell. Her prison attire consisted of loose shorts, and its presence embarrassed her. The pain was like climatic _orgasm_, splitting and slicing like a _mortal wound_.

Azula's _water_ had broken…

Her once shining gold eyes morphed into a dark, hellish color in her realization.

_Why did I ignore this? Why did I let it slip past me?_

_Why is everyone staring at me this way?_

_Their eyes! Eyes so blank that they seem nonexistent, as if all the life had been drained out of them like the water pouring out of me._

In an instant, a tantrum erupted from the princess. She closed her eyes. The ache was so unreal, _tearing_ at her insides, _clogging_ her feminine sex.

Once she was finally able to open her eyes again, she took note that she was alone, so terribly alone.

Except for _one_ lowly figure in the darkness.

_Mother…_

Azula yearned to take out all of her heated anger out on her.

_The one that left me…_

_The one that abandoned me…_

Her fingers swirled out a very stressed fire. She held on to it for dear life. Her eyes threatened its release if Ursa even dared to come one step closer.

As if on cue, as if all the sadness had _ceased_ her usefulness, Ursa turned away from her broken little girl. Her feet quietly shuffled to the door as her tiny tears took hold of her eyelashes.

"I never wanted to _abandon_ you.

"Even now…

"I_ love_ you, Azula.

_"I still do…"_

The pain took hold of Azula's legs and she fell to her knees. A scream bellowed, and her hand shot out and grasped her mother's in a frightened hold.

She sniffled, holding back all that pride she had had when she was young, and looked up at her mother, the child in her shining brightest.

"_Help_ me…"


	13. Chapter Twelve: Sanity in Innocence

Chapter Twelve: Sanity in Innocence

The blood was red, crimson, scarlet. It was the blood that had once resided inside of her, the blood that enriched her heart, the blood that pumped and streamed like waves of passion.

It was the blood that shed from her, to spill onto the colorless floor, painting it like blood lustful murder.

The sweat was clear, sticky, wet. It was the sweat that had once cleansed her pores, the sweat that wetted her body in precarious battle, the sweat that had leaked and exposed itself like a rumor of words.

It was the sweat that seeped out from her, to drip into the blood, to swim through the thick emptiness of gemstone ruby.

The tears were sour, bitter, distasteful. These were the tears that had once highlighted her eyes, the tears that tasted like salt, the tears that watered the withered flowers of her childhood.

These were the tears that dribbled from her, to join the rivulets of the juices of misery.

These miseries, the unpleasant palette of emotions that blackened her aura, were all in the hands of the _spirits_. The spirits blessed her with brilliant conception of innocent life, a thing that knew nothing but habitual movement: flailing of little arms and kicking legs swimming in the nurturing pools of the maternal uterus.

_The agony of love,_ she assumed.

_The endurance of honor, the right of passage into feminine maturity._

Azula was surrounded, surrounded by the whitest walls, _angelic and virtuous_. Her eyes grappled with the purity; it brought her back to the loss of her own.

_Quite the irony…_

Her right hand was wrapped around her mother's, though the pain left her almost unaware of her presence. The Water Tribe peasant's fingers tangled into her left hand, fingers embedded into the skin so tight that the blood ran down the palms of her opposite.

Her legs were raised, knees pointed up into the heavens as if this position offered her the _prayers_ to the holy spirits. Her feet and toes clung to the ground like glue to paper, the plastering hold everlasting. Her teeth were tight, so incredibly tight. So tight, that it seemed that she chewed the toughest meats of her feral rage. The rabid slobber provided the fruitless quench of thirst. It was dry and left a ball of knots in her throat.

She had been at this for so many _hours…_

But the _voice_ screeched viciously. Azula still had it in her to _scream._

She howled like a lonely wolf, lost out in a world where no one listened to her. It was if they eyed her pain as extravagant, almost _deliberately_ deserving.

_No one offers to help me. They offer only their hands._

_I have to do this all on my own._

_And all the eyes are watching…_

Azula's hands tightened as the pain shot through to her groin. A hand or two held her shaking knees in place; she didn't even know she was trembling. Two female doctors dressed in the medical white stood close between her legs, voicing commands she could barely follow.

But her ears _heard_ them well: "The head's just about out. All right, Azula, I'm going to tell you to push for the duration of ten seconds. Can you do that for me?"

Azula assumed no reason to nod. She was going to have to do it whether or not the doctor had her consent.

"Push for me, Azula."

The princess obeyed the command and the counting began. She felt her body tense up as she forced all her energy out of her. She directed it to her exposed groin, directed it like the _lightning_ that killed the Avatar. She was completely bent on frustration, aggravation, and exasperation. They slithered down from her brow and fell to her chest.

She felt liberation once the ten seconds were over. With each stressful count, the time seemed to last longer and longer; the aches of her labor followed the same brutal pattern.

"The head is now out," a doctor barked.

Azula felt cold hands touch her. She felt the cold hands almost _caress_ her sex. Just being in this position around all these women was still quite awkward, the fact that the _great_ Azula was at the _bottom_ of the totem pole.

She could feel a tender, but excruciating tug. Hands were gripping and pulling; they were _helping_ her, she guessed.

_But it hurts, it still hurts!_

_Don't you understand?_

_Does anyone…?_

She squealed in the woes of the actions. She began sizing up reasonable doubts, reasonable fears for the first-time mother.

_What if I die in the middle of childbirth?_

_What if my baby dies?_

_Would I care…?_

_Maybe…_

_I do not know._

_What if it is handicapped, forced to live out mental or even physical suffering on the behalf of my actions before it's birth?_

_What if it was my fault?_

_Would I regret…?_

_Perhaps…_

_What if my child does not please my father?_

_What if my child does not please Chan?_

_Would that hurt me? Them?_

_Maybe that shouldn't bother me. Maybe I can live without them, live without regretting the fact that all of this was in their hands._

_But should my child grow up without a father? I grew up without my mom and look how I turned out._

_Would it be fair to repeat the process that damns me? Would it be fair to place the damnations on a part of me?_

_Should I forgive the past that killed the love in me? Should I let it go?_

_Perhaps it is time, time to smile upon my mistakes, to play and dance where no motion resides._

_Maybe it is time for me to realize that I am a mother now; was for eight months…_

And all those words ended in her head, silenced themselves to hear the cry of innocence.

The pale-skinned baby roared at the fact that the birth was done. The flesh was obviously not adjusted to these cold and horrible conditions, the reason for the cries. Azula saw a flash and that was just it. The crude bodies of others swarmed around her hard work first, not even caring to concern themselves with her desires. Her ears heard the little baby gurgles and the girlish tunes of impressed voices; she heard a few coos and laughs.

_Why should they be laughing? The stress of my labor, rather, the product of my labor, is not something to find amusement in._

Despite the nuisance, Azula had curiosity written all over her face, in her pulsating golden eyes of molten lava. She grunted, hoping to garner a reply from the crowd. They turned to her, giving the princess dubious glances.

_And yet they ignore my pleas…_

She was completely fatigued, all her energy, all her fluid, was drained out of her, out of every crevice of her skin. The princess had never been this exhausted in her life. No training session with her father had been this excruciating; no battle of life and death had brought her this much distress.

_Just this…_

_Just this human being of flesh…_

_It brought me this, all this work, torture, blood, sweat, tears…_

_My body is desiccated, dehydrated. The liquids of human existence have been drained from me._

_It is as if I have nothing left._

_I am just bones that stick to flesh, muscles that hide veins, a heart with a rapid, dying beat._

After about five minutes at the least, the women accompanying her in the room turned. Her mother then stepped forward. Her arms were holding a blanketed bundle. Azula heard it making tiny little sounds; she gave it a curious cock of the head.

Ursa smiled in acknowledgement. She opened the head of the blanket, exposing the tiny red face.

"Azula, my daughter, _this is your son_."

Azula heard the glass just _shatter_. She wanted to crash to the ground, to disintegrate into the thin air, to disappear, leave this place.

_Leave this child…_

Her eyes took in the baby blue ones. They were deep, very deep, as if they could tell a hundred tales. The child's mouth slobbered a little, tongue licking the reddened lips.

He gave her a giggle and smiled, his eyes gleaming at his mother, just hoping to garner her love. His wrinkled hand jumped out at her, attempting to grab at her face.

Azula's teeth clenched slightly. Her eyes were bloodshot and thick. The whites were bulging in the reality of the birth.

Tears took over her control of the situation. They fell down her face; her lips began to taste them grimly.

_Why spirits?_

_Why this?_

_Why a son?_

_Why do I never get my way?_

_I wanted a little girl, the follower of my beliefs._

_Of what use is to have a son without a throne to place him upon?_

_Why did my body suffer to give birth to this?_

_He looks just like him…_

_Just like Chan._

She bawled loudly, choking up a terrible fit of sobs. Her hands would not come forward to hold the child; she couldn't make them. Her fingers dug into her eyes to wipe her tears away.

But they just kept coming. More and more, the water of sadness and depression.

The only emotion she could feel.

The baby gave a very fearful look to this action. He cringed and recoiled, fighting a fit of tears as well.

At last she captured his eyes again, both were riddled with the tears that they could not hide. Light sniffles were emitted from the princess.

"Hold him, Azula." someone said, she didn't care to know whom.

Her arms slowly shot forward, as if she were moving in slow motion. The act lasted an eternity, but her fingers touched the boy's head, touched his skin.

_The unification of our flesh, one that cannot be separated by the cut of the umbilical cord._

_He is still a part of me…_

_A part of Chan._

_You love the man that brought you here?_

_Can't you love his work?_

_You are a mother now, girl. The biggest crime you have ever put yourself through._

_You are touched, undesirable, one who destroyed innocence out of wedlock._

_You are dishonorable…_

_And so is he…_

She looked away and turned her body around. She held herself tight, hoping to grapple and wrestle the truth away.

_The truth always hurts._

_Love always hurts…_


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Defiance of Silence

Chapter Thirteen: Defiance of Silence

It was just the three of them.

Two mothers and a child.

The cold air of silence was chilling, almost _desperate_ for the heat of words. The only audible sounds were the restless coos of the baby at the crown of the bundle.

Azula wished it would all just stop; the world would stop turning. She had struggled to redeem herself, struggled to fight the madness of uncontrolled insanity.

_And it has all crumbled._

_Oh, Agni, why don't I ever get my way?_

The princess then stood and gave a stabbing frown at her mother. She then strode past her and took hold of her undergarments that had been taken from her during her labors and pulled then up to her waist. Ursa didn't _dare_ stare back; she knew Azula wouldn't have it. Once the task was done, Azula slumped down onto the stained floor. She winced at the lasting pain between her legs but she did not concern herself; the blood was _dry_ anyway. She raised her legs and placed her arms on her knees. She buried her head into the ring of her limbs, masking her shame.

Despite the unsure dominance Azula had on the situation, Ursa felt _obliged_ to walk up to her.

And she _did_ just that.

The once Firelady tapped her agitated foot, a disappointed look took over her features. Azula raised her head at this. The gold in their eyes met almost viciously; the past they had shared attacking them.

"Azula," Ursa pleaded, "this is not the way to welcome my _grandchild._

"Your _son."_

Azula scoffed, "Let _me_ be the judge of that, Mother. I don't need your flattery, nor do I need your praise, not that I expect to get it."

Ursa shook her head slowly, "I'm not _condemning_ you for this," she patted the baby's side, visualizing her point, "because I don't care who did it.

"I'm just _blessed_, is all."

With that, Azula looked away at once. She felt a pang of retaliation, of resentment.

_So, she will live to love him and not me?_

_She'll be there for him._

_But she was never there for me when I needed her._

She voiced this: "You _love_ him, don't you? You barely know him at all. But you don't love me.

"You _never_ did."

Ursa carefully sat down next to her, watching her step with the child in her arms. She scooted close to Azula, invading that personal boundary line that the princess never allowed anyone to occupy.

Ursa swapped the child into her left arm and wrapped her right one around Azula's shoulder. She shuttered at this, but did not fight out of a rare common courtesy. The closeness of the bodies created an invisible smog of warmth; it brought unnecessary discomfort to the already sweating princess.

Ursa then took a huge risk and seized Azula's arms and placed the baby into them. Surprisingly to her, the girl _did not_ move, didn't even_ try_ to rip herself from the grasp.

_Didn't even try to drop my own son…_

It was as if something _clicked_, a machine turned on. The smoke of progression, the torch of discovery, it propelled the juices that had long since ceased their flow inside her. His puny head was against her clothed chest and his frail, premature heart slowly mimicked hers at its very best. His hand again tried to grab at her, his fingers slipped into her matted, dried hair. He clenched his hand onto it, but he was somewhat unsatisfied with how it felt on his unsure palm. In his pout of disgust, he tugged at it rebelliously, but gave a sweet little coo to calm his mood.

She just did not know how to _react_, how to contemplate the insecurities she found herself selfishly clinging to. Azula remembered a feeling like this one, but it was so distant that she had trouble even releasing it out on her face. Just as those boys on Ember Island had _intrigued_ her, she found herself _amused_ by the silly quirks of the newborn.

_What am I feeling now? Is it revelation, truth, awe?_

_But emotions are silly distractions, mucky things that poison the demon of humanity. I have never let myself express them. I'd rather live stoically, not to be slapped around by the toys of feelings._

_But…_

_I do now…_

_Because he is something I never had._

_Responsibility, perhaps. Maternal duty._

"Well, what do you think?"

Azula snapped out of whatever she was thinking to listen to her mother. She was still eternally angered, of course, but gave no protest to her somewhat shallow words.

_Think? How am I supposed to think?_

_Excuse me for not knowing how to react to my son._

_Maybe if you had been there to raise me into a dignified lady, maybe I would know how to react…_

She cleared her throat, a raspy sound indicating her need for water, "I'm not about to _pour_ into my opinions about him. It's not something I am _willing_ to talk about."

"Azula," Ursa pleaded, "I'm _ready_ to talk to you. There is so much left to be said about our relationship."

"Don't give me a teary confession. You just want my attention so you can get _close_ to your grandson."

She shot her arms out roughly, the baby fussing in fear. His upset little arms were thrashing in the air.

This saddened Ursa: how her own daughter would abuse her own son like that. She pressed her warm hand against his tiny body, pushing him back at Azula's chest. This silenced him momentarily. He began to slobber a bit; his lips became coated with it. His hands began to fumble with his mouth, his feeble attempt to point out his newborn hunger.

"Feed him." Ursa said almost coldly, dryly, perhaps.

Azula silently questioned this request, not entirely pleased about _stripping_ herself again. Her nose crinkled in disgust.

"Look, Azula, I am a _mother_ too. I had two newborns in my life. It isn't like you can just ignore this."

_She is right about that._

Azula had no other choice but to relent. With a scornful eye, she dropped her breast to the child. Her hands were unsteady at this, and the motion was quite sloppy. The child also had a bit of trouble latching, but this was a common thing.

Ursa assisted in positioning the little boy in her arms. This helped quite a bit and the connection was successful.

It was as if time had _frozen_, as if life had died all around the three of them. The soundless drumming in the hushed room was a wicked reminder of how alone the princess felt in the world.

But all of that shattered, loneliness was not real. Bodies provided a heat of existence that the girl needed to move on.

And her eyes took it all in. It was a marvel of the need that this little thing had for her. To think that it all began in the womb, human life never deemed to die.

All of that selfish greed, that egotistical demeanor, that desire for attention, left her at the moment her baby met her breast. Even though it immediately seemed that he was taking a part of her away for his own wishes, Azula never felt more righteous, more expandable, more allowing.

She took a loving glance into his eyes. He returned the motion, taking his eye off of her chest for one instant. She teased his light wisps of hair on his almost bald head. The faint color was a simple connection to his _father_. She had no way of guessing where anything else would go, but his face was the most obvious beyond his hair. Everything about his looks reminded the young mother of the man she made love to in that prison cell, the man she had clumsily flirted with on Ember Island.

This was the _product_ of all that they shared, the _sum_ of all the good in her life. It was something that looked up to her for guidance, looked up to her for its every whim. She would not be dominated, but rather, she would be _served_ by this child out of his kindness, his adoration and love.

Ursa sighed relaxingly out of honest relief, "He _loves _you, Azula."

Azula took this as an initiative. She turned and faced the speaker and waited calmly, the soothing feeling of the baby's suckles comforting her.

"There is a _reason_ that he is here in your life, my daughter. It is your _responsibility to birth the next generation of the Fire Nation._ From your _mistakes_, there is a power to restore what fire _really_ is.

"It is _love._ It is _life._ It is a _heart_ that beats."

_My vision before my coronation…_

_She said that to me…_

_"But motherhood just the same. It is a part of your life, to be the mother of the Fire Nation's next generation._

_"You were born into this family for a reason, my daughter."_

"I heard that Zuko had to go through something similar to this before the comet arrived."

"Indeed. You know, if you _really_ want to know the truth, I found out that you were _right_ about Ozai's plan to kill your brother. I'm ashamed to say that I didn't believe you. Perhaps if I _had_, I could have spared my own banishment and spent more time with you as your mother."

"I know why you didn't." Azula said tenderly.

"Because I always _lied_ about everything. I lied to make Zuko look worse off than I was. The _strange_ thing is it didn't even seem to hurt me as I did it. I felt no regret, no guilt at all.

"I want to say that I do now. I'm _sorry_ for all that shame that I put on you."

A tear slithered down her face and landed on the baby's hand as it kneaded her breast.

"I know you are. I let Ozai raise you; I didn't even give you a chance to be my child.

"You are not a _monster_, nothing was ever incorrect about you. You had no way of knowing that you were in the wrong because that's how your father handled you."

"But I _did_ know, I always knew. My heart wanted righteousness so bad that it ached. But Father told me that emotions of love are immoral to the fire in me. He said that my drive should always be domination. Being the youngest child, I knew that he was wrong.

"But I did nothing. I stood there while he beat me and kicked me to the floor. I was punished for every _right_ move and praised for every _wrong._

"I am a monster, not a prodigy."

"No, my child. You have redeemed yourself from all of that. Confession is a way to come clean. If there still is a flame in your heart, let it out in a new drive.

"Your son."

Ursa nodded at the baby, who had since detached himself and was groggily burying his head into his mother's shoulder in attempt to fall asleep.

The princess smiled genuinely for the first time in her life. For once, the motion was not at all difficult: it was smooth and assured.

But the door to the room was abruptly opened and Zuko stepped in. The sound woke the child and his cries echoed on the walls. The Firelord paid no attention to this as he crossed his arms and stood his ground in front of his half-naked sister. His eyes roamed _hungrily_, which was completely out of his _noble_ character.

"Do you _mind?"_ she said wincingly.

He cleared his throat authoritatively, "Your sentence is not fully finished in this prison, and there is no way that you are going to raise a child here. As Firelord I have come to the decision of taking him and raising him at the palace. There, he will not go _corrupt_ as you have.

"Give him to me."

_No!_

She abruptly levitated and shot a blast of blue flame in her brother's face, the baby screaming in her arms. He dodged it and grabbed her wrists in a tight squeeze. He stared her straight in the eye, obviously flustered that she still had the audacity to attack her Firelord like that. The assault, as he took it, was a statement of the fact that she had not yet learned anything from her imprisonment.

"I am your Firelord, Azula. Your signal of disrespect just _adds_ to your crimes."

Ursa then rose as well.

Azula kicked in protest, "And you think I don't know that already? What _more_ are you going to steal from me? You stole my honor, my throne, and the Fire Nation's love, but I _do not care_ for these materialistic things anymore.

"I will not allow you to take this child from _me,"_ she peered down at her baby quickly, noting that he fearfully clung to her chest with a tight fist.

"Look at _him_, Zuko. He is your _nephew_, your _blood relative._ You think I have not the ability to love. You think I have not the ability to nurture, but I do.

_"I love him, and I love his father too."_

"Tell me who it is, _now."_ Zuko hissed his demand with a curl of the lip.

"_Why_ should I offer you anything? You show no respect for me, my child, or the efforts of bringing him into this world.

"Quite honestly, I thought you were better than that. I really had hoped that you would give him a nice welcome. You are acting like me back when I was _fourteen_, and that isn't setting a good example, considering that you deem me a _schizophrenic."_

"That doesn't prove _anything_ to me, Azula. You are a liar, a dirty liar. That's all you have _ever _been to me. Probably all you will _ever _be."

Azula gave a hurt look and absently began covering up her exposed breast. Zuko, as expected, did not look away, perhaps afraid that she was planning something _diabolical_ as she usually did.

The absolution never came to him.

"Look, I know you don't trust me, and it is quite appropriate, considering our shared past. But why do you put that kind of disrespect on my baby? He did nothing to you. Did you ever learn that children are innocent at this age? He knows_ no_ sin, knows _no_ impurities. Why must you continue to treat him the way you treat me?"

"Because the fact that he is even here is a mystery that has yet to be solved. I am more _concerned_ with the _murder_ that surrounds his existence if you really want to know the truth."

The princess gave a completely helpless stare at him, a single tear rolling down her face.

"How could you…?"

She turned her back to him and sat on the floor bordered by her dried blood. She held her baby close to her, arms wrapping delicately around his covered figure. She listened to his scared whimpers at the sight of his crude uncle and she _agreed _with his wordless terminology.

Ursa, seemingly out of the whole confrontation, glared angrily at the Firelord.

"Zuko, your sister is a changed woman, a mother. How dare you question that? This child is _hers_ to raise, not _yours_. Give her a chance. She has been in prison for _three long years_, and I _know _for a _fact_ that she is cured of any diagnosis your silly doctors have put on her.

_"Let her go, it's time…"_


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Beautiful Dawn

Chapter Fourteen: Beautiful Dawn

_"And the Phoenix flies_

_Straight and high, back to Avalon._

_Now I'm on my way_

_Back where I belong._

_Gonna go down with the sun._

_Back to Avalon."_

_-Back to Avalon_

_(Heart: from the 1993 album Desire Walks On)_

"What do you think I should do?"

Zuko had left the hospital room and met the Avatar and his crew in the hallway. He congregated with them, not pleased by their deadpan expressions. The Firelord turned to the monk first, noting that his wisdom was quite helpful in a sticky spot.

Aang shrugged, "I don't know. But I do believe that you still have yet to get into her heart. I told you to care about her, which of course, you still should, but I also think you need to open up to her baby before confronting her."

"I think you should just let her go, Zuko," Katara said defiantly, "because there's no way that you are going to raise her kid in the palace. You barely have time for leisure with your job as Firelord, what makes you think that you'll be able to care for him as well? It isn't appropriate to leave your sister's kid for the maids, even if she did commit horrible crimes in her past."

"But you do have to consider the fact that Azula could just be trying to trick us," Sokka added with a finger to his chin, "I mean, she risked her own life to protect Ozai on the day of the eclipse. And she brainwashed the Dai Li to overthrow Long Feng and the Earth King, so she could just be using the kid to get her way."

"I don't think so," his little sister rebuked, "it sounded like she was really showing maternal instinct, like she actually cared for once."

Zuko found this very odd coming from the Water Tribe girl, being that she was not in the slightest bit bothered when she took the princess down. But this conciliatory defiance was not unusual for her character: a _motherly crybaby_ that preached hymns of hope, based on that silly play.

"She's great at lying, Katara. Even Toph can't tell when she's not telling the truth."

Toph cleared her throat, "Actually Sokka, I'm actually going to side with the Sugar Queen. I have been studying up on lie detection, and from what I heard, the princess is telling the truth."

"Are you sure?" Zuko asked tentatively, "You weren't exactly in the room with her."

"I can feel vibrations from quite a distance. We were all right outside the door, so we weren't that far from her. Her voice revealed no malicious intention, nor did it sound opposing or distracting. She, based on what I felt, displayed no deceptive actions. I did not hear her pitch change, and her heart rate only accelerated due to the fact that Zuko barged in and caused a ruckus."

Zuko's face reddened a bit and he looked away from the blind girl, even though he knew she could not detect his embarrassment. Except for the fact that his body trembled just slightly.

"Zuko," Mai touched her betrothed on his shoulder and motioned him over to a clearing in the hallway. The Firelord followed her after excusing himself from the group.

Mai snorted, "We don't need her in the palace and you know that. The kid can live here; I can't have her in my life again. You know how she treated my brother? She doesn't care about her child. We need him more than she does."

It was obvious that the expressionless girl did not want the others to hear her voice. Her words held a secret that only she and Zuko knew. He instantly understood her arguments, but felt obligated to his mother as well.

"Well, my mother is going to fight this either way we go, Mai," Zuko said with a sigh, "separation wouldn't work, you know how Azula is."

Mai's eyes widened, "You aren't going to believe her are you?"

"I don't know. She is my sister and he is my nephew. Would he live a better life without her? Would she live a better life without him?"

"Zuko, don't."

Mai touched his cheek with her cold fingers. She was very stong-willed for one to keep emotions at bay. "You can't give in to her again. She's using you like she did in Ba Sing Se. You are betraying your family.

"Betraying me. Zuko, please, for me."

The Firelord nodded his head and wrapped his arms around her. Her body shivered with her sadness, but she did her best to hold back her tears.

"I will." It's all he could really say to her. It was apparent that he was torn between Mai and his mother, but something inside of him wanted to believe that Ursa would understand his orders in time. He broke from the embrace and walked back to the group. They had curious looks and their features displayed it without hiding anything.

Zuko took this as if they had not heard his conversation, a good sign, at least for Mai.

"I'm going to have to do it. Azula is still too dangerous to be out in the healing world. The child is too young to remember this, so he won't be affected much."

"Zuko, what about her? Don't you think that you might cause her to take a turn for the worst?" Katara quickly scolded him, "She's trying to heal; you know she is."

"I have to do this for Mai."

"Katara's right, Zuko," Aang pleaded, "How could you possibly benefit from having her kid in the palace? How will Azula benefit without her son? She has been stuck here for three years, almost four. She's spent almost a year of her sentence with this child, she's bonded to him."

"I just don't want to fall for her again, I can't."

"But you won't. How would you feel if your kid was taken away just minutes after its birth?" Katara snapped.

"I don't have kids yet."

"That's not the point. You will have to have some eventually, you are in need of an heir as the Firelord."

That hit Zuko like a swift kick at the groin. She was right after all, but with all honesty, the reality of it all was crumbling.

"I doesn't matter," he said after a brief moment of silence, "I value Mai's opinion over yours."

"How awfully _convenient_ that is for you."

Zuko brushed past them and stood at the closed door. He took a deep breath and opened it as quickly as time would allow.

Azula turned and growled in his presence. She was in the middle of applying a diaper on the child's bottom. She then shielded him from Zuko's view with her body, still a little panicked from the day's earlier events. Ursa stood defiantly beside her, arms crossed at her chest.

"I'm taking the child, Mother. I have to."

"Zuko, all my life I have sided with you on every little thing. Azula never had that opportunity from me."

"So, you're just siding with her because of that?"

"Come now, you know that's not true. I am doing this for the sake of the child. Children are best cared for in the arms of their mothers. Look what happened to your sister because I wasn't there for her. You walk away with this baby, _then you are the spawn of Ozai._ You could do a right thing here, Zuko. Think about it. You say you feel that the world is safest without Azula, but it's not. This child will grow up dying for affection because neither you, nor Mai, can care for it the way your sister can.

"Look, you may not understand it now. You may not understand it for a few years time. But I guarantee you will once he gets older. You will see the error of judgment, and you'll realize that its irreversible and too late too be changed. Do you want that on yourself? You want to be a damaged man carrying some heavy baggage?

"I know this is hard, sweetheart. Life is not meant to be easy. But once in a while, you meet the crossroads. You have before, and you wronged yourself. People live out a whole lifespan to get this chance of redemption. You _have_ it in the palm of your hand, Zuko. Don't throw it away."

"But Azula is an enemy of the Fire Nation, Mother. I have no sure-fired way of knowing that she is converted, you don't either. My decision puts my whole nation at risk, so I can't base my choice on the child. She has to prove it to me, first."

"I've done enough, Zuko." Azula chimed in, "I brought this baby into the world all on my own. I sacrificed the safety of myself to give him a chance, spilled blood, sweat, and tears for him. And what have you done to acknowledge that?"

Azula turned and unwrapped the blanket that covered the baby. Placing it to the side, she picked up the child and cuddled him in her arms. The gesture was maternally affectionate, not the usual demeanor she carried around small children. The baby rested his head on her left shoulder, but did not close his eyes. His blue irises were wide and fully focused on his uncle, his mouth wide in confusion. Spittle ran from his mouth as he whimpered audibly. Azula gently placed his right hand up to his face. Instinctively, the child took his tiny thumb into his mouth and suckled on it sloppily.

Azula took a tired sigh and closed her eyes. She seemed at peace for the moment, just listening to the lullaby of her baby's simple sounds. She paced around a bit, rocking him tenderly. This succeeded in subduing him for a brief moment. He cried out but was quickly sedated by a warm shush tickling his little ear. She then sat down in a spare chair off to the side of the room, easing the comfort level on her back.

Zuko had no way of reacting to what was just displayed to him. He only had a moment to take it all in, to realize it for what it truly was. His mind openly admitted that his sister did love the child, but his nation called for the love of his betrothed. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, he absently placed a hand to his head as if suffering from a bothersome headache.

After a second of thought process, he stepped forward and placed himself over his sister, casting a very dark and foreboding shadow. He bent down and brought his arms over to the child, attempting at his best to grab at him. Azula quickly read his gesture and protested with a grunt. Zuko knew he was stronger than she was by a long shot, so within seconds the baby was in his masculine arms. An openly offended Azula raced toward him, blocking the door from which he had previously entered.

"Don't you dare take him, Zuko." Her voice was riddled with bitterness and hostility.

"You have no authority right now, Azula. As much as you try, I am never falling for your games again. I am not going to repeat my failure at Ba Sing Se and the disasters of my nation."

He called a guard and the armored man wrapped cuffs around the new mother's wrists. She had absolutely no time to rebel, but she tugged herself forward as much as the guard would allow.

Ursa took charge at her son, clearly disappointed. She would never admit to it, but this was the first time she had found herself ashamed of him.

"Zuko, my son, you don't need to do this. Who are you doing this for? Yourself, your betrothed, your nation? Why would choose them over your sister, the mother of this child: the legal guardian? Why are you taking this child into the palace to raise him for yourself?"

"There is a reason behind it, Mother."

_"Spit it out then."_

The statement had a full blast of audacity written all over it. It was spiteful and sarcastic, not the usual tone of voice for a proper, well-raised woman.

"It's not something Mai and I are willing to share. We have a _private_ life too."

"Explain then, Zuko," Azula asked maliciously, "why can't I have that lovely private time that you so whole-heartedly idolize?"

"You get enough time alone in prison."

"Sure I do…"

"Give the child to me, Zuko." Ursa said in Azula's defense.

"Look, Mother, you could watch over the child in the palace. It's not as if you would be lacking at all. You should be satisfied."

"Yes, I could, but how would that benefit your sister or the baby?"

"That's not our concern."

"Oh, I assure you, it is."

"It doesn't matter now. If she is not willing to tell me who the father is, then I'm not willing to free her."

"That sounds a bit childish, Zuzu," Azula snapped, "but if you'd think about what I have told you about him, maybe guessing wouldn't be such a bad idea. You always expect the answers to be rewarded to you on a silver platter. Is that Firelord's demeanor? I can't believe I fought for the title."

"Don't lie, Azula."

"I'm not."

She gave him a stoic stare that pierced his eyes harmfully. He looked away in response to the nervous stimulus, his eyeballs reddening under the pressure. It gave him a bloodshot look, stress roaring and spitting up in the pit of his stomach.

"I am putting the Fire Nation before anything or anyone. It's the duty of the Firelord to do so. You know that."

"Well then. Answer Mother's question. Why are you taking my child and how does it benefit the Fire Nation?"

"I already said that the reason is private."

"The Fire Nation does not run on privacy, Zuko. At least it shouldn't, anyway. But the father to my son is also a private matter."

"Don't put a twist on my words."

"Oh, Zuzu. You are such a child. Concerning yourself with getting even and playing games with me. How many times do I- or Mother- have to tell you that I am done with being your enemy? I am your sister, my son; your nephew. How come Mother forgave me over you?"

"She fell for you. I have enough experience into your antics. I know better."

"So you are calling her _immature?"_

"No, no."

"Bring that silly blind girl in here and see what she has to say about it."

And with that the door opened, greeting a smiling face at its mouth. Toph took her entry into the room much similar to the way she would enter 'Earth Rumble Arena'- full of confidence and sly mocking tones. She planted herself next to Zuko and awaited her duties like an obedient dog.

With no hesitation, however, the sightless fifteen-year old spoke, "No doubt about it, Zuko. The princess is telling the truth. As I told you a few years back, the truth hurts sometimes."

"Just on that, it doesn't mean I'm going to give in."

"So, I'm being framed, then?" Azula butted in.

"No, you are being punished for your crimes. And I'm not settling on a reduced sentence."

"Give me some time off for good behavior."

The baby squirmed in Zuko's arms, doing his best to break free from his uncle's tight squeeze.

"Here, give him to me." Ursa grabbed up on the child, holding him as close as she could to her body. Her royal robes warmed her grandson and covered him up almost entirely. As if calmed, the baby let out a relaxed sigh and closed his eyes.

Zuko, now empty-handed, crossed his arms over himself, "I am not going to argue over this matter anymore, it's done and over with."

"Zuko, I've barely begun to argue over this," Azula struggled in her cuffs, "and could you please let me out of these cuffs? If you truly wanted me back in this hellhole, I thought you would have done it by now.

"You know why you haven't? It's because somewhere deep inside you, you know it doesn't matter what the rules say. You don't want to make a mistake that could damage your record. I saw your face; I know you see the love I have for this baby.

"Listen to that part of you and stop being so selfish. From my time in prison, I myself have ceased to follow the self-centered part of me; I've left it behind. I am not this insane, cureless _rat_ that you define me as: I have rights too, and as the princess, I demand that you release me."

"That isn't going to change me."

"Come on, Zuko," Toph sighed in despair, "you two are going to fight over this forever. Can't you just get it over with? Just admit: she's right and you're wrong, for _once_ in your life?"

"It's complicated."

"Doesn't seem to be."

"You cannot comprehend the tribulations of my family, so your inclusion is unnecessary."

"Your sister apparently wants me in here, I'm sure your mother the same."

"I am a higher power over the both of them."

"Whatever you say."

Toph stumbled to the exit and slammed the door shut like a protesting youngster half her age. Zuko scoffed and turned his attention elsewhere. He stared intently at the baby in his mother's arms and at his cuffed sister.

"Let her out of the cuffs for a moment."

The guard gave a confused expression but relented. He pulled the metallic binds off of the princess' wrists and she rubbed the red marks they had created, wincing the whole time. She opened herself up, giving Ursa the signal to take her baby back. Azula massaged his naked, soft-skinned back, stroking it the way a pregnant woman would stroke her stomach; it was full of a breed of tenderness that acted and played out the role of a maternal shield. Though this aegis was invisible, neither Ursa nor Zuko dared to step closer to her.

"So, Zuko," Azula said almost in a whisper, "what is it going to be?"

"I don't know yet."

"Here."

She took the biggest risk of her life handing the child to Zuko. He looked a bit surprised and even overwhelmed. He stood with his arms out, as if afraid to place the child to his chest. He pondered over the little thing, marveling at it, perhaps?

"Isn't he beautiful?" Azula asked affectionately, "Maybe I'm just not _ready_ to reveal his father yet, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't be given a _chance_. I heard that the Avatar and his friends accepted you over time, maybe _you_ could learn to do the same for me."

She wrapped her bony arms around her brother and gave him a cousinly kiss on the cheek. Then she placed her head on his shoulder and stared intently at her baby. She waited for Zuko to respond. He looked into Azula's eyes and soon made eye contact with his mother. She nodded in approval, noticing that Zuko was finally seeing the light.

"Go get the warden."

It was all he could say to the matter, and the guard did just that. The warden made his entry with an eye of disgust and impatience.

"I'm assuming that you are now ready to take the prisoner back to her cell so you can be on your way, milord?"

"No, she is being released on my order."

"What? You can't just take her, you have to sign orders and paperwork. She can't be put in for a release transfer for weeks."

"Leave them on my tab. She's not staying here a moment longer."

The warden did not question this and he opened the door to let the Firelord pass. Zuko gave Azula the child and gallantly made his way out, his sister and mother following behind him. He did not stare back at the Avatar and his crew, and worst of all, he completely ignored Mai, for he knew what would come to him when he got home.

One more door stood between them and the outside world. Zuko unlocked it with a spare key from the warden and held his hand out, revealing the world Azula dismissed for almost four years.

The sun was surrounded by colors deemed unimaginable, so many swirled in unidentifiable shapes and forms. It burned Azula's eyes for a moment, but she smiled at it, just waiting for it to swallow her whole and take her to a better place. She then took a deep look into her baby's eyes, blinking and blinking, adjusting to the light as best as he could.

He stared into the dawn.

_The Beautiful Dawn…_


	16. Chapter Fifteen: Words Under the Sun

**This chapter is dedicated to Atilio Montenegro (A.M.), whom I would consider to be one of my biggest and inspirational fans! I owed you this for the longest of time and I am pleased that you didn't grow tired of waiting. You have given me so much respect and praise that this would be considered the least I could do for you. Please continue to enjoy this piece all the way to the end, as I hope to not let you down! Thank you so much, if only I could do more!**

Chapter Fifteen: Words Under the Sun

The palace was buzzing with life, _swarming_ with it; it was almost as if existence was considered a hassle. A child in the chamber brought much attention to the members of the place, even the common servant could not help but be amused.

Azula found herself quite stressed after her return home. Visitation was common; servants were always _willing_ to lend a hand in the care for the newborn, but the princess often gestured refusal to their assistance. She did not wish to repeat the mistakes her own mother made when she was young.

Ursa's presence however, was more of a _comfort_ than a pain. The bond between the two women had grown at an alarming rate. They spun tales of their trials in life; never was it a _competitive_ thing, but more of simple storytelling to pass the time away.

She understood well that the nation itself had not been given the news of her redemption; she did not mind this. It was probably better that way: her personal opinion. The other nations were unstable still. Violence mounted, though these were usually battles waged in the lower levels of Ba Sing Se, some in the outskirts of the Fire Nation as well. She had heard a few rumors that the Air Temples were emerging out of the ashes of a one hundred-year-old defeat, and that the Avatar was hoping to _breed_ his kind back into the world again. The princess _praised_ him on his efforts, noble as they were.

Mai gave no attention to her or the child, not that this was an upset. The passionless woman was more _cranky_ than usual; _luck was on Azula's side._

What bothered her, however, was Zuko's _lack_ of inclusion. This came as a surprise, considering that it was he who freed her at last. It was as if he did not exist in the palace. She had not seen him the whole week; she could not imagine what sort of thing could keep him from her, despite the occupation to his nation.

She woke to the shrilling sounds of her crying son, whom she had named _Raiden:_ a mythical god or spirit of lightning, as he was her sole drive when bending. She wearily rose from her bed and situated herself in front of the crib. Raiden's arms and legs were raised above his head and his eyes were wide open, staring hungrily at his mother's chest. He had been quite_ fussy_ over the period of time in the palace. She rubbed his red cheek and picked him up gently. She rocked him in her arms for a few moments to cease his episode, and made sweet shushes in his ear. He tiredly placed his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes. Azula positioned herself upon her bed, pillow propping up her back and chest. She dropped her breast to Raiden and his little hands kneaded at it as he slowly began to suckle. This relaxed the somewhat stressed princess and she breathed in and out rhythmically, for she herself was indeed _needy_ of some rest, but dutifully remained awake for her baby's sake. After about fifteen or twenty minutes or so, she switched breasts and began to drift off once again. Her head bobbled a bit, eyelids dropping down like weights, but sleep would not bestow itself upon her; it was not a rather _kind_ thing, or _cruel_ in some way, but she dismissed this thought as quickly as it came.

It was barely morning, the sun had not risen as of yet. The open window in her chambers revealed a somewhat warm wind, and a sky so light that it marked the up and coming entry of dawn. She stared out of the window, taking in all the plants and wildlife; the things she never realized were so _magnificent._ The minutes passed by in a speed that even surprised her. By the time she woke from this sleepless hallucination or trance, Raiden was falling asleep serenely in her arms, his head propped against her exposed breast.

Azula found herself smiling as she changed his position to burp him; he released a delighted squeal. She only wished that perhaps Chan could see his son, but she found it impossible to request. After all, she was still keeping Raiden's sire a secret to the world. It almost itched at her to tell someone. The first name to come to mind was Ursa, but Zuko was a more preferable target. She had yet to thank him for his act of kindness upon her and Raiden, and she wished to do so. But, of course, she had not had any sightings of the Firelord for a whole week.

She stared out the window again, hoping that it would give her the answer to her struggle. She rose carefully, as to not wake Raiden, and made her way to the exit of the palace. Opening a single door, her bare feet met the soft blades of grass inside the garden, toes being tickled by each wisp. Even though there was a wall around the place, she could still see the sky a brilliant blue. She waited for the sunrise, for the dawn had a _special_ meaning to her. She welcomed it on the day of her liberation, felt it enrich her drive of fire. There was a slight chill in the wind this particular morning; it brushed her hair against her face. She stared down at her son, the light of morning day enveloping his skin. It gave him a _golden_ look, made him appear almost dignified and full of some _unknown strength._ But as far as Azula knew, the newborn was defenseless, completely dependent on her for warmth, milk, even _survival itself._ She was proud of this responsibility, but it was not always pleasing. She understood the stress of being a first-time mother, and it took its toll on her physical stature. She was a little pale still, a little underfed and thin from her prison days. She had yet to make up all that time she had spent awake with nothing but sleep-deprivation gnawing at her eyelids. She could not help but recall the work she had put in to being pregnant with a baby in jail, all the physical changes she went through –the pains of labor, the ecstasy of birth. It was moving and worth it, no doubt,_ unbelievably so._

The sun was beginning to make its presence known, peering almost shyly over the horizon to the east. Azula wanted to wrap her arms into it, embrace it and let it _fill the void _where anger and hostility reigned. She smiled affectionately and hugged baby Raiden close, as if he were the _substitute_ for her yearnings at the moment. She sighed deeply, purely moved by the acceptation of clean air into her lungs. She was one to breathe in toxins, dust, impurities, and such the like. She took a step forward, slow and cautiously. There were no imminent threats around her, for her ears were highly sensitive to danger. She had trained herself well back in prison, and some of those lessons stuck with her outside. Change and redemption were just two of these newly found morals, and each were conceived by the fact that her own physical body _morphed into something so unlike her when she was fourteen._ She almost wanted to giggle at her own stubborn stupidity then, almost wished to shed tears over a past life of waste and hidden hostility, but the cruel appetite inside of her was mostly gone, far enough gone that laughing at herself was beyond normal behavior.

The sun was higher at this moment; Azula had to raise her head just to capture a good glimpse at it. In this sense of absence from mind, she stroked Raiden's fawn wisps of hair, each so delicately embedded into his scalp. His face was emerging almost like a transformation. He was obviously a _replica_ of his father; perhaps the mystery would be solved on its own in time. She saw _Chan _somewhere in those baby blue eyes of her son, somewhere deep and seemingly unreachable in a way. The world had a way of getting entangled in this mass of confusion for her; there was so much that they had yet to understand. She had not left the palace yet this week, so being spotted at such a crucial time would be rather _devastating._

"Azula."

Azula felt slightly panicked, but recognized the voice. She turned to meet her brother's scar, his smiling face. It was a warm grin, somewhat paternal in nature. She gave him an identical look but turned back around to face the sun. Zuko walked up to her curiously and stood to her right. He stared down at her baby, looking sincerely into his eyes. The child, perhaps having no recollection of his past, flung his hand out to him, trying to grab his uncle in a somewhat comical way. Azula took note, letting out a small _laugh_ of her own. Zuko's hand fondled the baby's cheek and Raiden's little hand wrapped around his uncle's index finger.

"What is his name?"

"Raiden, for lightning."

Zuko nodded his head in approval, not questioning anything of significance to his sister.

"You know, I have not seen you in a _week,_ Zuko." Azula said almost defiantly, though it was plain to see that she was not at all upset.

"I'm sorry," Zuko admitted, "but Mai has been quite _angry_ with me."

Azula gave him a look of both understanding and curiosity. She placed Raiden to her shoulder and motioned her brother to continue.

"Well, Mai was the one that told me that you were meant to stay in the prison. She felt that you were not ready to enter our newly built world. Mai felt that it would be cruel to put your _son_ into the stresses that you existed in for so long so she devised a plan to keep him in the palace unharmed."

"So, you wished to raise him for yourselves. I find that rather _surprising_ coming from Mai; I've never known her to be so _boisterous._ She was more than willing to endanger _her own little brother_ to satisfy my needs. It never really occurred to me that she had a sort of fondness for children, Zuko. No wonder you don't have children yet."

"Not exactly."

Raiden let out a loud squeal, showing off his distress. He thrashed in Azula's arms almost painfully that she had no choice but to give him to Zuko. The Firelord's face dripped with surprise at the gesture, but he folded the baby in a warm, fatherly embrace. Raiden's eyes captured his uncle's lovingly and he made himself at home in Zuko's arms.

"You know, I've always dreamed of holding a child –_my_ child in my own arms, but…" Zuko paused.

"What is it?"

"Mai and I, well, we really can't have children of our own. Mai is _infertile,_ you see?"

"I never knew that about her."

"She never told anyone about it, up until our marriage; that's when I found out for myself."

"I'm sorry, Zuko."

"It's not your fault. It is why she was so adamant about taking your baby and raising him here, so you would _never_ have to know about her flaw."

"If you want to know the truth, I never wanted to have children, _but I was the one that ended up giving birth to one._ It's an _awful twist of fate_ on Mai, I guess."

"Yeah. She's been trying to keep us apart so I would not let the news leak out, but I feel as if I have _no choice_ in the matter."

"Does the Fire Nation know about it?"

"No, but your son was the gateway into devising a plan to get away with it. In all reality, the reason I was not thrilled that you were pregnant was because I knew that you would have to be separated from him at some point. And when you said that I saw the love you had for him, I _knew_ you meant it. I just couldn't accept it for myself. But Mother was so strong about it, fighting along with you that I had to give in. And when I held your son for the first time, I _understood_ what Uncle meant when he told me that he saw me as his own. You know, I just sent a messenger hawk to Iroh last evening telling him of your son's birth. He should receive it in a few days time."

Azula felt a tear fall down her face. As sudden as death, she realized how much the Firelord actually cared about Raiden. Though it hurt on the inside that he indeed betrayed her, the pain was virtually nonexistent.

_"Zuko, I think I'm ready now to tell you who Raiden's father is."_

Firelord Zuko was puzzled but remained composed as he turned and waited for Azula to respond.

"You remember that night on Ember Island? The one where we were thrown out of that ridiculous party?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I fell smitten over the Admiral's son, Chan. And he killed the guard and visited my cell. Then he, well, he made love to me and I got _pregnant."_

"So, it was _Chan_, that obnoxious host?"

"Yes. Look, I know it sounds strange, but it is true."

Raiden squirmed in his uncle's arms and reached out to Azula, silently asking her to take him. Zuko handed him to her and she rocked him affectionately. He cooed at her and smiled a toothless, but charming grin. She returned the gesture and rubbed his nose absently with her finger.

"Are you angry about it?" Zuko asked inquisitively. He had a feeling that she would be, since she was quite upset over the man's _dismissal_ of her at the party.

She looked up, "Well, I was at the start. I was confused and hurt and betrayed; I really had _no clue_ how to react to it. I _let_ him do it to me, I allowed him to dominate. I surrendered all my strength for momentary pleasure with him."

"Since you told me that he was the murderer, I really have no choice but to turn him in, don't you think?"

Zuko backed away and began to slowly make his way back into the palace. Azula grabbed his arm in a tight stranglehold and squeezed his wrist.

"No."

"What?"

"Don't do that, Zuko. Please?" Azula pleaded; her eyes revealed a sense of anger at _herself _for letting the words slip.

"Why not? He should be punished and tried for murder. The guard's family deserves a bit of closure. On top of that, he should be _paying alimony_ to you. You aren't married, nor is he."

"The money doesn't matter to me. The thing is, after all those months I spent pregnant in secrecy, I learned that I indeed had fallen in love with Chan. In a way, my baby helped me learn to _forgive_ him for what he did to me. I dismissed all the pain and suffering so I could protect and hide his identity.

_"And I still do love him, Zuko."_

The Firelord turned his head at his sister, "You do?"

Azula lowered her head submissively and released a tired sigh, eyes opening just slightly. After about a minute, she bit her lip and nodded her head.

"You want to know something, Zuko? I never _thanked _you for freeing me, and I should have. In the grand scheme of things, I feel as if I am talking to you for the _first time_ in my life. I do not see you as a threat or a challenge, someone to tease and upset, but rather as a sibling, an uncle to my son."

"Well, Azula, you don't know how much that means to me, coming from you."

"You shouldn't have to feel that way. I hate that I wasted my childhood on something I didn't even deserve. I never earned the title that you have now and I shouldn't have tried to have you killed for it. _I'm so sorry,_ Zuko."

"No, Azula. I'm the one who should apologize. Because of my mistakes, I let you stay in that squalid prison for so long, even when Toph told me that you were indeed sincere. I'm almost shocked that she didn't _hear_ the baby's heartbeat."

"Well, perhaps if she had, I would have been moved to the medical wing much sooner than I was. I put my own child in danger for _selfish reasons,_ and I have to live out my life with that guilt."

"It is not your fault."

"Oh, but it is."

"You had no choice."

"I told you," Azula snapped, "that I _chose_ to get myself in this situation."

"Then, if you blame yourself, why are you trying to protect Chan?"

She paused, "Because I am protecting _Father_ as well."

Zuko's brow raised, "How so?"

"Well, on the day of Sozin's comet, Father told me that I was to be crowned as Firelord."

"I know."

"But, in order to do that, I needed a _suitor_ and an _heir_ for myself. I broke down, went insane over the thought. I couldn't let myself give in, so in the end, I betrayed him."

"You did what you had to."

"But I hurt you and all of those people that only wished for _my _betterment and well being." Azula stared off to the sun, which was well above the horizon.

"It's all behind me. Besides, the wounds have healed over. Who cares for scars?"

The princess had to laugh at the statement, but it was light and half-hearted. She knew very well that the mark on his face still troubled him; it was perhaps the connection to Ozai that he wished he could erase.

"Listen, Zuko. I know I'm not in a position to _bark orders_ at you, but I have a simple request in mind." Azula said, almost whispered. The words slipped from her tongue like slime: _foul and unwanted._

"What is it?"

"I wish to visit Father. I need to converse with him over a few things, as perhaps to _learn_ something from him: what he desired of me."

She gave her brother a hopeful look. Her eyes were so rich with a gold that resembled the purest of the said stone. The irises were bulging with this element, as if she wished to spread it into the soil beneath her feet.

Zuko pressed a soft hand onto her shoulder, _"You know, Azula, I think I could have that arranged…"_


	17. Chapter Sixteen: Faded Loyalty

**Author's Note: To all those who have followed my recent work, I have become quite the Ozula fan and this pairing makes a startling appearance in this chapter. Ozai's portrayal here is not as a doting daddy, but rather more –I guess you could say –pedophilic in nature. As the author, I think it adds to the fact that he is really not the best paternal influence on Azula, contrasting to the fact that the girl spent much of her life without a mother. The question arises: who is to blame for Azula's improper childhood? I blame it mostly on Ozai personally –he morphed her into the satanic, devilish woman we see on the show itself. This is not to be put on Ursa. Yes, the woman left, but Azula was at an age of reason to know right from wrong –she was able to make her own decisions. So, in simpler terms, not only am I trying to add in one of my personal favorite pairings into this chapter, I am trying to eliminate the blame put on Ursa, for Ozai was Azula's main influence. I hope that this clears the air and sheds some light. I wish not to confuse my readers; I am merely your humble guide. So, if any questions pop up, please do not hesitate to ask them. I am more than willing to assist in understanding.**

Chapter Sixteen: Faded Loyalty

It was no surprise that the Phoenix King had been placed in a prison right outside the palace city –at least, not to the princess. He was no threat to the Firelord anymore, nor was he a man of great prowess and strength, but he was a lord of great and moving words –this was true. He spoke in an inspirational tone of voice with Azula on a number of occasions, and she never backed down from any request he made. But once she _did,_ it was as if his existence did not register inside of her. His influence was long forgotten and erased.

With Firelord Zuko following behind her and her baby sleeping on her shoulder, Azula made her way through the tight halls of the prison. She recognized that Iroh had once resided here and escaped not long after. It came as a surprise that her father had yet to do the same. The princess yearned to consider that a pitiful, _degrading_ flaw to her proud blood.

"His chamber is this way. Just follow this path until you reach the last cell on the right," a guard informed. He then stared directly at the newborn in Azula's arms, "You should not worry; he isn't _much_ of a problem these days. Rather quiet, really."

Zuko nodded his head and pushed his sister along. It was not much of a long walk, though the hallway was quite a stretch. It was a mundane place: the walls were painted a dull brown rather than red like the Boiling Rock. Perhaps the place had yet to be remodeled, this crossed the princess' mind almost immediately. The Boiling Rock was a well-kept, orderly facility, whereas this penitentiary was barely alive. Taxes did not really pay for prisons –they had almost no use because the war was over. But the Firelord had paid a hefty salary into keeping Azula locked up. There was no need to continue this payment: why put the Fire Nation into debt for the survival of useless, unimportant places?

The door in front of the trio was rusted; paint was chipped off and the cell number was scratched out completely. Zuko, stepping forward, grasped a key from the pocket of his robe and unlocked the door with a loud clack. His steady hand pulled it open to reveal another cage and a weary figure inside of it. The man had a full head of gray hair upon his head, and his eyes almost appeared blind and clouded over. This brought a pang of pity to Azula, as she once loved and respected this man not so long ago. Those years seemed to hit her in the face like a cold hand in punishment.

Ozai stared up with a scowl on his wrinkled face. His frown penetrated his son's eyes, but did nothing to affect his daughter.

Azula took note of this, "Leave us, Zuko. I would like to speak with him _alone._"

Zuko nodded his head nervously –he apparently had a twinge of protection or obligation to his recently freed sister, but he did nothing to display this. As subservient as he was, he instantly obeyed her. The princess still had a way of instilling compliance into those around her –this had never changed with age.

He handed her the keys and Azula's striking eyes followed him to the door. Her gaze never left until the Firelord disappeared completely. Once she was satisfied, she looked back and advanced to the closed cell. Apprehensive and slightly tormented, she had no intention of placing herself into his space as of yet, so she moved cautiously.

She sighed, "Father."

The Phoenix King raised his head ever so slowly, as if _silently_ making a statement of annoyance. Once his eyes met hers, the frown that seemed permanently plastered to his face morphed into a warm, compassionate smile. This was rather _odd_ of him in this state, but the princess was not clearly amused. She gave him a smug, deviant look in return. He cackled; his voice hoarse and raspy in comparison to what it once was.

He opened his mouth and spoke for the first time in years, "What is that in your arms?" He stated this almost snidely, in a mocking, _tactless_ tone that brought chills down Azula's spine. She understood that her father was just playing with her –he knew very well what she had brought to him. It was not a _clever_ act; the woman saw right through it.

"Father, I am not yours to toy with anymore. I am seventeen now, not the immature child you still see me as."

"Azula," he teased, _"come and let your father meet his grandchild. Do I not have the right to see the product of my own doings?"_

Azula growled with a stamp to her left foot.

_So Chan was right after all…_

"Father, why –how could you do that to me? You hurt and betrayed everything I lived and stood up for."

"Azula, try to understand –"

"Understand what, Father? What could I possibly not understand in all of this?" Azula hissed, spit hitting the bars between them. Raiden, confused by all the noise and stress, let out an unhappy yelp. His mother, quick to act, turned from Ozai and shushed the baby, calmly rubbing his cheek to silence him. He cooed at her, revealing that goofy grin that she loved him for. She laughed with the child, bringing some _bliss_ to the _hapless_ place.

Out of the spotlight, Ozai cleared his throat with an air of authority, impatiently waiting for his distracted daughter to regain awareness of the situation. This noise initiated the desired effect; Azula quickly turned around and faced him once again. Raiden's little hand clasped tightly onto the front of his mother's robe, and even he found the courage to stare into his grandfather's burning eyes.

"Come closer, child." Ozai whispered seductively –_passionately,_ perhaps as well.

Azula –maternal instincts kicking in –did not immediately submit to his words, fearing the safety of her child more than her own. Ozai responded with a deep, throaty growl, his eyes glowing deeper and deeper into hers. Resistance was futile; facing the music was best. The key in her shaking hand fulfilled its use by unlocking the cage. It snapped abruptly and the door swung to the side. Entering the bowel, Azula shoved it shut behind her.

Ozai gave a wicked smile and took a deep breath. His exhale produced nothing beyond a puff of air; an _obvious_ sign that the Avatar's trick had been successful. The once proud man kept this embarrassment to himself and did nothing to spur conversation on the matter –Azula picked up on this reaction in a matter of seconds. She was deemed a very _social_ woman, one who took note of the subtlest changes in others the way one would notice a deformity –_it was clearly there._

"Bring the child here." He ordered. With an exasperated sigh, Azula did as he asked. She crouched on her knees and positioned her arms so that Raiden's face was plainly visible. The child let out a short and somewhat tired moan, hiding his shy face into Azula's neck. He whimpered a few more times and slobber ran down his chin. The princess took a rag from her pocket and wiped his lips. He stared at her for a moment, his hands teasing her tresses in an amusing sort of way. She returned his gesture and rubbed the fawn wisps upon his head.

She looked up, clutching the baby to her chest, "Father, I wish to know your role in this," she paused, "and why you would do it to _me_ –your own daughter: the one who remained loyal to you until the end. I tended to your every whim, Father, and you deceived me.

_"Why…?"_

Ozai chuckled, "I can see that you have _lost_ your _vigor,_ Azula. It is a shame to me; I thought you were _better_ than that –I thought _nothing_ could change you."

_"Perhaps that is the only difference between us."_ Azula snapped.

Ozai rose from the floor and circled his daughter. His gait was slightly faltered –lack of use in his legs, a main factor. His face inched closer to hers and his hand grabbed her chin.

"Azula, _darling,_ I miss our talks." His lips came just inches from hers. She backed away a little, fearing that he was going to _bite_ her rather than _kiss_ her. She wished for _neither,_ really. He was a twisted man: somewhat erotic and sexual, but quick to conform when the situation demanded a different tone.

She regained her composure, "Father, just tell me what I need to know, nothing more."

Her hand formed a fist and she lightly sent it at his chest to push him out of her way. He obeyed her and slumped back to the ground.

_"As you wish."_

Azula repositioned her baby so that his head was propped upon her left breast. He buried himself deep into her robe and snuggled there contently. For a brief moment, Ozai gave a _curious_ glance at Raiden; his eyes almost appeared charming in expression. He scooted himself closer to the child, who was lightly wrapped in a bundle for warmth. The prison's air was rather chilly on most days –this one was no exception. It was about an hour or two past noon, but the place was cold, nonetheless. Ozai's hand reached out and touched the blanket that shielded Raiden's back. He stroked it timidly, taking in the heat upon it.

"Tell me, Azula, what is it like being a _parent_ at your _age?_ You seem _so irresponsible_ to me, as if you are not quite prepared for the task."

"Really, Father," she answered spitefully, "_I'm_ the one who should be asking the questions. And who are you to say that I am not _fit_ _to_ _mother a child?_ It was you who told me I needed an heir to my throne, a husband as well. And it should be obvious to you how I feel. Just answer for me this simple question: how are you _involved_ with Chan's actions?"

"Ah, so you _hold resentment_ toward the man who sired your child? From what I heard, you have no one to blame but yourself. You seemed to _enjoy_ it, really."

"Perhaps I _did,_ but it doesn't excuse the fact that the action was _wrong_ on your behalf," Azula snarled, "and even though you have been stuck here for almost four years, how do you know about this? Who told you anything?"

Ozai sighed, "You are never satisfied, are you? In your newly found metamorphosis, I would have guessed that you were grateful to have been blessed with a child, _a son no less._

"You see, Azula, I had a great vision for you –something that you were to carry out without question. But it seems to have backfired. History is not kind to its subjects, and I suppose that I am suffering with this fact as of now. Why bother revealing something if it holds no purpose to anything?"

The princess gave a trenchant frown, "As the mother to this child, I have a _right_ to know."

Ozai sighed deeply, "Perhaps this is true."

Pregnant silence coated the air. The stillness was unbearable to the princess, but the Phoenix King seemed to _revel_ in it –he enjoyed it, lapped it up like fresh water.

"As you probably know by now, Admiral Chan is one of my greatest followers; a Loyalist by all accounts. He wished deeply for the reign of the Phoenix King, but found it impossible with the Avatar's newfound talent of bending energy getting in the way. So, together, he and I devised a clever plan to regain control of the world. Knowing well that your firebending was still intact, we used you as the _benefactor_ for dominance. The Fire Nation was in need of new leadership –still is, quite frankly. Your brother, Zuko is not cut out for the role of Firelord. He has weakened our nation to its most pitiful low. And we needed you –you would be the one to take the throne and reclaim our goodwill. But, to ensure your spot, you needed an heir. We found out about Zuko's wife's infertility quite _early_ ourselves, and we capitalized on it. You know, I had you sent to Ember Island for a_ reason_ –so that you could meet the Admiral's son."

"So, I'm guessing that you _lied_ to me about your reasons for sending us away?"

"Not entirely. I did meet with a few of my advisors, the Admiral as well. But it did not work as expected. So, when push comes to shove, you do what you must to get your way –and we enacted the plot the night you fell pregnant. The boy did as he was told –I personally _commend_ him for his efforts, but I do not wish for the child to go corrupt as you clearly have."

"Kindness is not _corruption,_ Father," Azula said, "and apparently, it isn't a reason to punish someone."

"The act was not out of reprimand; it was out of _obligation and utmost necessity._ We both fell that day –this, we share –but defeat did not mark the end of our reign on the world. Once we found out that our plan had been successful, we felt that you would do the rest on your own."

Azula sneered, _"And that is…?"_

"I always knew you were a clever girl –still are, Azula –and we thought that you would _consider_ the safety of your _newly conceived child_ and escape the Boiling Rock. I thought that if _Zuko_ was able to do so, you could too. But apparently, I was terribly wrong. Your own body seemed to turn on you. You gave up on what marks you: your own perfections. You disregarded your family name, your blood –everything –just because you fell into immoral hands. I don't understand how Zuko and Ursa were able to convince you of this so-called righteousness."

_"They had nothing to do with it."_

Ozai stared at her smugly, "What?"

Raiden yawned and placed his tiny thumb into his mouth. Spittle coated the corners of his lips and it dribbled down his face. Sighing, Azula again took a rag from her pocket and dried him off. He cooed audibly, giggling sweetly in his mother's arms. He made an innocent fist and slapped it against her shoulder. Not that it hurt her at all –she allowed the baby to do as he pleased. He continued to play the silly game, but soon grew tired and rested his head in Azula's neck. She heard his relaxed sigh and stood up, rocking him as she paced the cage.

She then stared at Ozai, "I told you that Zuko and Ursa didn't convince me. Don't put this on them, Father.

_"Put it on Chan."_

The Phoenix King frowned menacingly, "He only visited you once, Azula. How could you possibly _blame_ him for your change? All he did was get you pregnant and left you."

The princess lowered her head; she wished not to have her father see the shame clearly written all over her face.

"It isn't like that. I fell in love with him that night. I know it seems odd, but losing my innocence made me see how I really felt about him. I allowed him to take over me out of _passion,_ not out of some _sick duty_ as you see it. And all those months I spent carrying his baby had an effect on me. I wanted to be a proper influence on this child, but once he was born, I felt that there was no need to raise a _son_ with no purpose. I turned away from the role that was put on me. I was angry and confused, but yet, when I finally got the chance to hold him in my arms, I saw him as something pure and guiltless –one who _shouldn't_ be blamed for my disgraceful act that night.

"You see, Father? I do not care to hold resentment over what you or Chan did to me. I am over silly quarrels that sprout from such things. _I am blessed with life, freedom, and a child._ What more could a woman like me ask for? Yes, perhaps I _did _have the promise of a seat on the throne back then, but it is a man's title, and it was never meant to be mine. _Nothing is coincidence,_ Father; I learned that on my own. _Destiny is what you make it_ –the power you put on me was false, that wasn't my purpose. But I know what is.

As Mother told me back on the day of Sozin's Comet, "My purpose is to be the _mother of the Fire Nation's next generation._ And with this child, I am living out what the spirits wanted of me. Perhaps, maybe one day, _you_ could do the same."

"Well, now you sound like your uncle. You have wisdom beyond your years, Azula –it amuses me." Ozai chuckled with a smirk on his face.

But Azula ignored him, "Father."

She stood right in front of him and gently situated herself onto her knees. She held out her son and placed him into Ozai's arms.

"This is your grandson, Raiden. Just because you put this massive responsibility on me doesn't mean you cannot _love him_ as I do. I wish for you to see the light as I have, to change and forget the past. Maybe you cannot reverse what is permanent, maybe you cannot become the great ruler you see in visions, but you can _still_ be this child's grandfather."

Raiden stared into Ozai's eyes warmly and placed his tiny fingertips on the man's chin. He emitted a silly laugh and rested his head on a bony shoulder. Azula, beaming with maternal affection, patted the baby's back and wrapped her arms around her father.

A hot tear fell down her cheek, "I _want_ you with me, Father. Can't you see? Why won't you see the error of your judgment and accept that maybe Zuko was right? _For me?_ I pray for your freedom, your redemption, because I am _lost_ without you. Now, I don't know if you feel any remorse, but I want you to know that I do. _My baby loves you; I love you._

_"Remember that, because I don't always lie anymore…"_

With that, she lifted Raiden back up and propped him onto her breast. She took one last glimpse at Ozai before shutting the cage and locking it behind her. And at that very moment, she let go of her past, let go of the hate and turmoil, just because she had taught herself to _forgive…_


	18. Chapter Seventeen: To Love and Forgive

**Author's Note: I sincerely apologize for the delay on this chapter. I worked every single day in the hopes to perfect this. This required numerous drafts, edits, and deletions, so I do hope that my efforts paid off. So, as the readers may notice, it is very lengthy. It exceeds every single one of my previous chapters, so it took quite a while to get it all typed up. Another thing to note is that this is the last chapter before the epilogue. I am wrapping up all that I can into this single package. I hope all my fans can survive reading through this all the way, because I can understand that it is just dreadfully long, but it still is the most important one in the whole story. So, it might be beneficial to your understanding if you read it.**

**One other point to make is that the quarrels between Chan and Azula are really turbulent. I did this to represent the fact that there is still hostility between the two, though they are both too stubborn to state it aloud. Personally, I see the changes and waves that occur in the dialogue as symbolic enhancers. What I mean by that is that Azula did, indeed, lose her satanic muse that resided inside her, but its effects still linger. I would say that for every wrong, she then takes two steps forward, so at least she is getting somewhere. In basic and simple terms, she is not _fully_ restored in the end –she still has a little way to go in her recovery, but this will not be delved into at the conclusion of this tale. My readers will have to wait and see what I have planned…**

**Anyhow, my fellow fans, God Bless and happy readings!**

Chapter Seventeen: To Love and Forgive

_"Then it happened one day,_

_We came round the same way._

_You can imagine his surprise_

_When he saw his own eyes."_

_-All I Wanna Do is Make Love to You_

_(Heart: from the 1990 album "Brigade")_

"Admiral Chan was on leave at Ember Island when the war ended," Zuko informed his sister, "so he retired there with his family and never left."

Azula stayed silent, staring off into the blue sea that surrounded the royal ship. She recalled the terrain she was traveling through –_how could she forget?_ The water was calm and soothing. Each wave was monotonous: as if repeated over time. Raiden was taking this form of travel in stride: he slept soundly, his head buried in his mother's breast. The princess rocked him distractedly, pacing the deck in a rather preoccupied manner. She had a lot on her mind. Words floated in her head, but she was not sure what to say at the moment. She was on the ship this day to visit the man who _impregnated_ her –quite a tall order on her state of being. She was _flustered,_ really; her nerves were on fire. Zuko knew to keep his distance and he performed the task without question. He was a lot more of a _forgiving_ brother than he was almost four years ago. He just kept his eye out for the destination, not bothering to speak unless directly spoken to.

Raiden broke the brooding silence when he woke up. His eyes wandered about nervously and he covered his face in Azula's robe. It was obvious that the child was upset and unaware of his surroundings. He had grown quite comfortable living out his weeklong life in the royal palace and he was predominantly hesitant around those he did not know. It was not to say that little Raiden was already a prime example of a _spoiled_ child, but rather, he was somewhat _shy_ and perhaps even a bit of a _fusser._ Princess Azula found this _amusing_ in some weird way. She herself never had that personality trait and neither did the boy's father –where he had received it was unknown. For just a moment, the princess stared away from him and out into the ocean. The wind was cool against her face, though the temperature was at its peak. It was the middle of the day: four or five hours past noon, so the sun was high on the horizon. It was a bright afternoon –the salt of the sea was refreshing in the air. She found a distraction as Raiden tugged at her chest, clutching the cloth in his petite hands as if it would save his life. He began rooting at her breast, wailing, his voice slightly muffled by the robe. Azula sighed, understanding the situation before her. She was considerably _embarrassed,_ being that she was on a ship full of men –_her brother included._ The princess did her best not to display this, but such a thing was impossible. Her internal metamorphosis had softened her; emotions were allowed in her life now and her initial reaction was to _capitalize_ on this newfound freedom. But she was not _selfish_ anymore –her baby's needs were more important than hers. With Raiden weeping in her arms, she strode over to Zuko and touched his shoulder.

"My son needs to be fed and changed. I'm going below deck, if you don't mind?"

Zuko smiled at her, though he was somewhat _confused_ as to why the girl asked permission for something like this.

"You don't have to ask," Zuko said kindly, "Do what you need to."

Azula made her way to the top of the stairway, but before she descended, she looked back at her brother and gave him a sisterly smile. He nodded in return and she placed a hand on the railing. Her feet met each downward step cautiously; her eyes were not adjusted to the dim red light that shined over them. But once down, she made her way to her individual chamber. Two elites shielded the doorway and waited for the woman to speak.

Azula patted Raiden softly on the back and stared at the guards before her, "We wish to have some privacy. Unless it is for a _dire emergency,_ there are to be _no interruptions or intrusions._ Am I clear?"

They nodded, somewhat displeased with her tone of voice. Azula obviously still had her spiteful side deep within her, and it oftentimes would make an appearance now and then. She herself was a little _unsatisfied_ with that fact, but did nothing to reprimand it. She thought that she had every right to act authoritatively around those cheap things her brother called _elites._ They were _men_ after all –it was not as if she believed they would ever understand her situation. The princess shoved her regret aside as quickly as she shut the door and locked it. Stress left her as solitude seeped through her veins. She enjoyed this said loneliness, though it accompanied her one too many times over her prison sentence –that still had a way of bothering her.

The room itself was dim, again illuminated by that annoying red light. But Azula's eyes saw well enough. She was aware of her surroundings and everything was set up fastidiously. Placing Raiden on a makeshift changing table, she undressed him and replaced his diapers with a swift and steady hand. She had a new outfit for him as well: light, red, comfortable clothes. She found much enjoyment in placing the newborn in tiny robes and shirts, _much like any mother her age,_ she supposed. She also found it difficult not to _smile_ at such dependency. Was she herself like this at that age? It was hard to imagine, it seemed, for she was independent for the most part. But she ignored the thoughts as she slipped a little shirt over Raiden's tiny body. She guided his arms through the sleeves in a tender manner. He cooed amiably with a big grin on his face. At the moment, the boy seemed to dismiss his hunger, though Azula knew this would not last. Once the task was done, she wrapped her arms delicately below his armpits and raised him above her. Both mother and son stared into each other's eyes and each had a seemingly identical smile. Perhaps that was _one_ thing the baby got from her, Azula thought, but it did not matter to her at all. With a short laugh, the princess rubbed Raiden's nose with hers and his palm pressed against her cheek in affection. He giggled as well: quite an _adorable_ sound, really; one would not even begin to describe it beyond its perfection. She happily spoke to him wordlessly, vocalizing basic sounds in an immature fashion. But once she lowered him, the child went right back to rooting again.

She nursed him for about a half hour before he dozed off. He had his fill, which was fine enough. But she did have to burp him too; she patted and rubbed his back until she heard its desired effect. Something between a hiccup and a burp was emitted, but the youngster was completely satisfied and snuggled into his mother's warm shoulder. Careful not to disturb him, she covered up her breast and tied her robe royally. She still had a care in how she appeared, being that she was of the _noblest_ bloodline –that would never leave, even after those years spent in the Boiling Rock.

Tired after a long wait, Azula carefully swaddled Raiden in a few blankets and placed him on the small bed in the room. She had him on his back and she situated herself next to him. He was already asleep, but the princess knew better; such peace was not everlasting. She was well aware that the kid probably had slight episodes of _colic_ –his fussy demeanor at times was the clearest sign –but she was not disappointed at all in her son: she was blessed, _truthfully blessed._ She sighed deeply as he repositioned himself into her warm breast: little squeaks and a kick or two from him, now and then. _Yes, the child dreamed,_ and Azula often wondered what went on in her son's head. He did not know much, except a few faces and where to sleep and get his next meal, so reveries were possibly dull inside of him, _but who knew?_ He was a little bundle of mysteries, as far as she was concerned. It delighted her that a surprise would meet her when he aged, but she did not wish to rush the memories she already had with the newborn. Her life was much easier at the moment; being a mother was not all that difficult in the grand scheme of things. It was _instinct,_ mostly –nothing beyond that.

Azula stroked his head with her right hand. This was a typical habit –not one she wished to break. He was growing his hair at a pretty alarming rate; perhaps that was another trait he received from her in the womb. She enjoyed caressing each wisp with her delicate, gentle fingers, for they were so soft upon him. For the most part, the hair was still on the light side. The princess marveled that the baby was unique for having his differences, but what nagged her the most was the color of his eyes. They were grayish blue still, and she really wanted to know what would become of them. She tried to imagine, but no images surfaced. It was best to wait; what was the _point_ in rushing it?

The next thing Azula knew, she was lying on her left side, her face up against Raiden's. Her right arm was around the bundle of blankets to keep him warm. Her midriff touched his momentarily exposed little feet and most of his quick kicks jabbed into her abdomen and groin, which was just slightly sore from enduring labor a week before. But, otherwise, she was oblivious to any sort of pain and both mother and child appeared rather content together. The princess was, indeed, awake for the most part, though she was incredibly weary. Closing her eyes, she attempted to fall asleep for just a moment.

A couple of knocks on the door.

Azula grumbled, "I thought had said, no interruptions."

"Azula, it's me." Zuko said, "We're on Ember Island. Meet me at the docks, but take your time. I am in no rush."

With that, Zuko made his way up the stairs and off the ship. Azula heard his footsteps as they gradually quieted to nothing at all. With a sigh, the princess soothingly woke Raiden; his eyes could barely stay open. He was nervous and anxious, but sleepiness covered up most of that. She raised him up to her, propping his bottom on her left arm and his little fingers in her right hand. She caressed the tiny fingertips and placed them to her chest. She took a quick glance into her son's eyes, but Raiden, with no _desire _at all to remain awake, plopped his head right into Azula's neck and almost instantly fell asleep again. Standing up, she made her way out the door and nodded affirmatively at the guards assigned to her chambers. Once outside, she made her way off of the ship, being careful not to wake her son. He stirred occasionally, but no signs of distress or alarm were found in his movements. Within minutes, she was by Zuko's side, waiting for him to give her any further instructions.

"Our palanquins are here. I don't _want_ you walking around with your son in this heat." Zuko said, staring up into the blue sky. It was strange to Azula as to how _paternal_ he sounded. His tone dripped with genuine concern and the princess gladly appreciated it.

Azula's separate palanquin was placed in front of her. A few noble servants opened the filmy curtains to reveal a luxurious chair. The red furnishings were lined with gold, much like the hems and sleeves of royal garments. She stepped inside and sat down, carefully smoothing out any wrinkles in her clothes. She placed Raiden on her lap to ease the discomfort on her arms from holding him for extended periods. He did not mind this; he slept so soundly that the racket from the town _did not_ faze him. This brought such a great _relief_ to the boy's mother, who knew him to react in more drastic ways.

The ride to the admiral's home was simple and quaint. No one dared to stop the royal procession –the Firelord did not allow it. The whole bit of travel lasted approximately ten minutes or so. The day itself was still rather hot and steamy, but there was a distant wind blowing from the north. The curtains on Azula's palanquin swept and danced in the breeze, almost like a theatrical production –each piece of cloth moved harmoniously in comparison to the others.

The stop was not at all abrupt; it was rather elaborate, really. Servants and guards bordered each side of the palanquins, waiting for signs that anything was amiss. One servant folded over a section of cloth and the princess walked out gallantly, Raiden still snoozing in her arms. Zuko followed her lead and made his way over to his sister.

"You want me to come with you, or do you want to do this alone?"

_"I would rather this be done privately."_ Azula stated matter-of-factly, as if the answer Zuko was asking for was obvious. So, she quickly nodded a farewell to her brother and was soon on the porch of the admiral's elaborate abode. Her left hand knocked at the door. Two swift poundings were enough and to no one's real surprise, the _Loyalist_ was the one to answer. He was graying a bit –his hair reminded the princess of charcoal and ash. He had a stoic expression –a replica of the warden in the prison.

He stared at her and Raiden with a sneer, "And _what_ is it that you want?"

"Sir, I'm sure you know _exactly_ why I'm here. I'm not going to play _trivial games_ with you. Now, let me in, unless you _want_ to get the Firelord involved?"

She gestured to the set of palanquins nearby and Admiral Chan instantly got the message.

"Uh, no, ma'am. Right this way."

He allowed her to enter the home. It was just as she remembered it, except a few of the family's treasures and keepsakes were gone. The house seemed bare due to this fact, but it was more_ humorous_ than tragic.

"Take a seat, if you wish."

The admiral left the room. Azula obliged and sat down on an expensive red couch. They had time to refurnish, she noticed. Raiden was oblivious to everything and everyone around him. His mouth was open and his tongue coated his bottom lip with saliva. With her cloth at the ready, the princess dried his lips off without disturbing him.

He returned after about five minutes and faced her; "My son is _ready_ to see you now." His tone sounded oddly formal to Azula, but she respected it. She stood as he led the way to a single bedroom on the left side. The door was open and she was allotted entry.

"I'll leave you two alone." That was all he said before quietly slipping away.

Azula smirked at the great admiral's insecurity –what a _terrible_ choice of a crony on her father's behalf. He apparently had not the dignity to face a situation that was partially his fault, but she did not care for his _opinions._ She averted her attention to the other occupant of the room, Chan himself, who had his back turned at the moment.

She cleared her throat.

This got his attention. A small sheet in his hand dropped to the floor in his surprise, and he was not quick to regain his composure. He blinked a couple of times –_perhaps to add effect_ –and stared her over. He allowed a nervous smile to form on his face, but the princess retaliated with a curl to her lip. She scowled, her teeth shining viciously at him, and put a hand to her nubile hip. Shifting her weight to that side, she gave off a very agitated, _pissed off_ glare. He clearly saw it written all over her and his mind fumbled over ways to rebuke.

"Uh, Princess Azula," he attempted to make conversation, "It is an _honor_ to see you."

The princess was not amused. She played the silent card and obviously had the upper hand. With a furrowed brow, she advanced with an elevated air to herself; she seemed almost _obnoxious_ with each step she took. She held her pert bosom high, her gait perfect and well composed. Silence caught both male and female as their bodies came just inches from each other. Chan was frozen solid –immobile in her fiery stare. She was amused by his lack of action; _he played her game well._

She smiled evilly, grabbing the collar of his robe, "Well, Chan, it has been a _long_ time since I have seen you."

Chan felt sweat oozing upon his skin as he coughed, "I can say the same for you."

"Oh, but I had my _reasons._ Care to explain why _you_ never offered to return?"

She said this without even the slightest bit of hesitation. It, again, caught Chan off guard –not that he _had_ such a thing to start with. His eyes darted across the room anxiously, but resistance was entirely futile and he knew it –knew it well.

"Well…" He really had nothing to say.

"Come now, Chan. I thought you would have at least thought of some excuse in almost nine months time.

_"It shames me."_

More silence from him, as expected.

She chided, "Don't you have at least a _simple_ answer?"

He patronized her, finding a different subject to discuss, "Uh, would you like some wine?"

Azula shot him a sour look of utter disapproval, _"I'm lactating, Chan."_

At that, Raiden made his grand appearance, peeping his little head out of the blankets he had been swaddled in. He was quite alert after such a long nap; he was going to be awake for a while, Azula knew. The child giggled at his mother with a smile on his face. His hand played with her hair a bit, which was up in a typical bun. He averted his attention and swiveled his neck and faced his uneasy father. He was still beaming, but it faded just slightly. The boy's bashful nature won over him, the princess supposed.

But she did not let it get in the way. She brought the infant closer to Chan, not immediately handing him off.

She talked simple nonsense to Raiden, but finally said, "That's your daddy, sweetheart." She grinned and took his petite hand and let it wave at Chan innocently. Raiden responded with some quick, cute squeaks, but they turned into gurgles once he crammed a few of his fingers into his mouth.

After another round of playful banter, she turned back to Chan, regaining some of her known dignity.

"May we sit down?"

He groped around in his head for words again, "Uh, yes, of course."

His hand pointed to the large queen-sized bed in the room. _His,_ she supposed; there was no doubt that the family was wealthy, of course. She ignored this hard feeling and sat upon it curtly. Her eyes told Chan to join her there and although he was frightfully tense, he followed her silent order. She looked into his eyes, turning her baby's face in the said direction.

"Well, Chan, this is your son, Raiden."

"He's beautiful."

A genuine smile took over her lips, "That, he is."

"May I hold him?"

She placed Raiden to her breast, sheltering him for a second or two, "Of course."

Azula had no choice but to hand him over. She was nervous herself, handing her son over to the man who had gotten her into the _mess_ in the first place. But she performed the task, though a little ill at ease. Chan stared down at his child in an inexpressible way –his loss at words at its very peak.

_Did I notice him smile?_

The admiral's son's fingers caressed the baby's pink cheeks and his wrinkly, underdeveloped chin. Such a beautiful sight, quite _lovely,_ really. Azula scooted closer to the two; engrossed in a type of _elation_ she had once thought she would never feel.

"Well," the princess managed to say with a maternal sigh, "What do you think?"

The two adults shared eye contact briefly, but it was broken in an instant as Raiden let out a weary squeal. His hands flailed slowly in his father's arms, and Azula almost swore that the child had never been _happier_ there. They sat in silence, barely touching one another. It seemed a bit strange, considering that the girl herself and said that she was _in love_ with the man sitting before her. She was well acquainted with concealing these feelings, as she had done that for over three years, but she assumed that it was the rush of emotion winning over her at the moment.

She spoke again, "You know, I think you look like him."

Chan flashed a smile at her, but returned to his son, softly rubbing the back of the infant's head.

"Perhaps he does," he managed to say courteously.

Azula gave out a nervous laugh and patted Chan's strong hand –the hand that touched his child first. She absently stroked it, intertwining their fingers. But, embarrassment swept over her and she withdrew it, hiding her humiliation by avoiding his eyes; her pride had been _completely_ obliterated.

Chan was the first to act, seizing a bit of confidence. He grasped her hand soothingly and held it there for what seemed to be an eternity. He stared over at her, but she refused to look back. She was completely insecure –falling for him all over again. She felt chills run over her spine and her head spin like mad. Letting go of her hand, he grasped her chin and slowly –_very slowly_ –took her to his lips.

Oh, how she _melted_ into his kiss. The memories flashed back into her mind like a screenplay: words said and done floated right into place, just as her thoughts had dictated. Azula admitted that this was the first time since her son's birth that she had felt so alive, so _enriched_ with the energy and vitality of the minute of bliss. Yes, this was _bliss_ to the princess; her emotions told her so.

Chan and Azula held the kiss for another few seconds before unlocking their embrace. Raiden had raised a hand of protest at his mother, meaning that it was her turn to hold him again. Chan assisted her, passing the child calmly and full of fatherly grace. She laid him on her lap, where he found his own form of content. Once he was not entirely in the way anymore, Azula turned her attention back to where it was before.

She showed off her dazzling teeth and put a hand to the back of Chan's head. Her fingers stroked his light hair as she pulled him in. She moved much quicker than he did, but it was uncertain as to which of the two was hesitant. Once they met, Azula found herself closing her amber eyes –_nature would run its course,_ she predicted.

But it did not last.

Raiden stirred once more in the midst of a crying spell. Azula was not surprised. He was a fussy child, despite his gentle nature on the inside, but she adamantly refused to hold it against him. She pulled herself away from the kiss and stood from the bed, placing the wailing infant to her chest. She rocked him gently, but nothing calmed him.

"Chan, do you mind taking him?"

He stood up and grasped the shrieking newborn. This had no effect, either, but Chan did exactly what Azula had done. He paced in front of her, cradling and consoling Raiden as best he could. The new father appeared somewhat upset and even a bit _angry_ that something had bothered his son, which was a decent reaction to the stressed princess.

"Wait, he might need changing. Give him to me."

The young man obliged. Azula quickly used the bed as a changing table –it did the job well enough. She folded up Raiden's shirt and removed the diaper from his bottom. It was clean, to her surprise, so she placed it back on him. The cries lessoned a little, but they were still enough to cause alarm.

"Do you think you'll need anything?" Chan asked. He understood that childcare and parenting were out of his element, so he felt out of place –the _oddball,_ despite being in his own house.

"No, but perhaps he just needs to be nursed a little early. It has been about an hour or so since his last feeding," Azula managed to say over the cries.

It was not much to go on; usually the child followed a schedule of two or three hours before hunger set in. She was reluctant to go ahead with such a plan –it may have been considered a_ rude_ gesture. She was used to security and privacy for the most part, but in the end, she really did not have a choice in the matter.

"What do you want me to do?" Chan asked shyly, "I'll leave the room if you need me to?"

_Yes, let him leave you._

_It isn't his place, isn't his right…_

But Azula ignored her conscience with a spiteful tone in her voice and completely forgot the brief happiness bestowed upon her, "No, there is no need. I'm sure you got a _good_ look at me in our time together in prison."

And then she gave him her typical, heartless stare, "_Unless_ the act embarrasses you now? Do you _regret_ your pleasures, Chan?"

"You're not being _serious,_ are you?" His voice was shaking uncontrollably.

"Who's to say that I'm not? You were perfectly _fine_ with stripping me of my clothes and dignity that night, weren't you?"

He made a comeback, _"You seemed content with it."_

She shot him a hideously stony glare, her eyes widening a bit, "Such _bold_ talk, Chan. You have no idea what you put me through. You didn't even _bother_ to return or help me out, for the sake of what was then _your_ unborn child. The stresses of prison life could have easily killed him. He was _premature,_ if you didn't happen to notice. I was about thirty-four weeks into my pregnancy when he was born, six weeks shy of my due date. That alone probably did a number on him.

"But presently, I don't concern myself with my past. I am thankful that my son is alive and well, despite his early birth.

_"Do we share these feelings, Chan?"_

He stuttered, "Of course we do."

Azula smirked, but ignored him. She did not know if he was lying to her, nor did she really concern herself. She sat back down on the bed and rocked the infant in her arms. Despite his obvious discomfort, he showed no clear signs of hunger: no slobber, no rooting, no desperate stares at her breasts. Perhaps Raiden had a bit of a stomach upset; this was a possible solution. She propped him up to her shoulder and began rubbing and patting his back.

This was completely successful. He burped audibly, but with a gurgle, he wasted no expense in spitting up what was his last meal. Azula was prepared; she had her rag below his face to ease the cleaning. Raiden's face and chin were covered in the yellowish slime –a mix of both stomach bile and breast milk, but he was promptly cleaned off. Azula was the first to laugh: the _silly_ infant had held in his vomit for quite a while. He was strong-willed; certainly this was true. Despite probably being in pain for a decent amount of time, he managed to avoid crying for too long.

She disposed of the rag by inserting it into her pocket. She offered a warm smile to Raiden, who was beginning to fall asleep. Chan fondled the baby's forehead, fingers teasing identical wisps. Azula was more than willing to allow the father some bonding time with his son, but it was not the top priority of her unannounced presence.

"Chan, we need to _discuss_ a few matters."

The man raised his eyebrows inquisitively. Deep inside, he knew exactly what was going on, but he desperately hoped to stall it. It was impossible on all fronts; Azula read his silence like a used piece of parchment. She anticipated it, so she was more than ready to utilize it to her advantage. This was a game of _strategy,_ something she was an expert at by nature.

"I'll be blunt. Why did you listen to my father over your own conscience? Didn't _something_ inside you _say_ that what you were doing was _wrong_ at all?"

"I had no choice, Azula. Believe me, I didn't."

"So, you answered the demands of a man who _rots_ in a prison cell as we speak? Does that not seem odd to you?"

"He was one of the most influential men of our time; is that not reason enough? And it doesn't help that my own father is a _Loyalist._ It would have been seen as dishonorable for me to refuse my family. _You_ of all people should understand where I am coming from."

"Indeed I do, but, unlike you, I had it in me to break free and find my own way. Now, let me ask you this: Why did you not offer a hand to me in my state. Like my father said, you left me _beaten, broken, and pregnant_ all at once."

"I am a criminal; I had to protect myself." Chan rebuked unsuccessfully.

"Protect _yourself?_ You didn't even think to defend your own child. And you want to know something, Chan? The only reason you managed to avoid punishment was because _I_ never placed you at the scene of the crime. In other words: _I protected you._ Seems like a dreadful twist on your wording, doesn't it?"

He gave her a nervous smile, "So, you never told anyone?"

Azula exhaled, "Not until early this morning. I confided in Zuko, but he is keeping his word."

She took a quick glance at Raiden. His head was almost buried in her armpit. Azula, for her own personal comfort, repositioned him to her breast. The child did not stir; he was sound asleep. The princess did not have it in her to openly display her relief, so she avoided doing so. She just focused her attention back on her intended target.

With a mirthless smile, Azula spoke, "Look. I may not be one to consume myself in emotion, but you don't know the pain you put on Raiden and I. Every new mother wishes for her mate to be there for her child's birth. You didn't even bother to _show up_ to welcome your own son into the world. Though he may not remember that in his future, I will."

"Look, Azula, I'm _sorry_ for what I did." Chan begged, placing a hand to her shoulder.

Azula ignored the touch, "That is a little _late,_ is it not?"

_"Maybe it is, I admit, but at least you got to hear me say it."_

Raiden woke at his father's agitated voice. His eyes were barely open and his hands groggily rubbed them. Azula grasped his left wrist and held it there briefly. The little boy cooed to perk himself up a bit and he stared about his surroundings. His happiness was gone for the most part; he was not thrilled to be up again.

She gave Chan a nasty look, disapproving him of waking the infant from his slumber. Chan gave a pitiful shrug to his shoulders and offered open arms. With her hands under his armpits, the princess gave Raiden to his father. The boy perked up as he began playing with Chan's face; his fingers batted at the cheeks in front of him. Azula altered her expression –she softened it a bit to compensate for her amusement. _Almost_ standing on his wobbly legs, Raiden then grasped Chan's broad shoulders and rubbed noses, but was unable to keep his footing. He fell back into the young man's lap with an upset whine. Azula gasped immediately at this, rubbing the baby's chin and soothing him with mild shushes to his ear.

"Shhh, it's alright, darling," she whispered and kissed his chubby cheek. He turned toward her, his grin forming slowly. Soon enough, he was in good spirits again, laughing absurdly in his own little way. Chan bobbed him tenderly and the child began kicking excitedly, his giggles reverberating through the walls. His father echoed a short chuckle, but shut his son up with a tickle to the chin. Raiden followed the finger with avid interest, which was not very surprising. Though he was only a week old, the infant had a _vast_ level of curiosity in him. He grasped it with his left hand and pulled it to his mouth, sucking audibly. Chan cradled the boy, but found it somewhat calming to allow him to do as he pleased.

Princess Azula seemed distant within this situation, but it was just so _natural_ to her. Chan was quite _experienced_ in his limited amount of time with the role as a father; he performed _beyond_ Azula's expectations. Indeed, this deepened the growing affection she felt for this particular man, but she was afraid to speak to him. Fear was not a trait she wished to acquire; it just was not like her to act in this manner. But she obtained a distraction when she recalled the time.

The princess removed her hairpiece randomly, her dark hair falling to her shoulders, "Chan," she said sweetly, "Raiden is due to be nursed about now, if you don't mind at all? He has nothing in his stomach, you know?"

Her gentle tone caught Chan off guard, but he nodded and handed Raiden off to his patient mother. She turned herself away from him and offered an engorged breast to her son. It was visible that he was quite hungry. The meal was a bit late; it eradicated the schedule the princess had him on, but it was of no big concern.

Both parents were uncomfortable in the condition before them, but there was nothing wrong with that at all. Azula, capturing a quick glance at her child, turned to Chan. She ignored the suckling newborn as she prepared herself for speaking.

She cleared her throat femininely, "Chan, there are _other_ matters that need discussing as well."

"What is it?"

"Nothing _too_ intricate, but rather urgent things, nonetheless." She paused to add an effect.

"I have a proposal in mind…" She repositioned herself on the bed so that she was just inches from the admiral's son. She gave a quick tug to his collar with her free hand and he scooted closer to her.

_"…A marriage proposal, Chan."_

"Marriage? Doesn't it seem a little sudden?"

Perspiration coated his brow as he waited for Azula to reply to him. He _regretted_ what he said as soon as it left his lips, but he could not do anything to reverse it. His doubts were correct, of course; Azula took the statement offensively.

"Do you not _agree_ to my plans?" she shook her head solemnly, "But I have yet to finish. There is much that needs to be conversed over, but it seems unimportant to you. Shall I cut it off and not allow you visitation with your own son?"

"Don't go to that extreme," he scolded, "I'm not angling at that."

"Then tell me why you find it _necessary_ to question my authority? Despite being thrown in a high-security prison for almost four years, I still hold my title as Princess to the Fire Nation. How dare you speak against the crown? Is that not treason? Perhaps you should face your crimes, Chan? I'm on the Firelord's good side now, so you should appreciate anything I say that may _benefit_ you in the end."

"Benefit? How?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Azula gave him a prideful smirk.

"No. I don't see you as the heir to the throne."

"Ah, but, you are missing a very _crucial_ fact."

He began to tangle and play into her words, gaining interest with what she had to say.

"And what might that be, Princess?"

Azula cackled in a wicked way, snippety and petty, even. It was a cold laugh, but it licked at Chan's skin like the hellish flames that roared in the royal chambers. She regained herself quickly, dismissing her quirks of yesteryears.

_"The crown."_

Chan gulped with a confused frown, "The crown? But, I thought you confirmed that you weren't next in line?"

She shook her head, but mostly agreed with him, "This is true, but consider those in power: my brother, Zuko and the Lady Mai. Did it ever occur to you that they have _yet_ to produce offspring for the throne? It has been about three years since Zuko's coronation –plenty of time for him to impregnate his wife. I mean, we were both born before our father even took the throne for himself."

"I'm sure it is in good reason."

"Of course it is. Zuko's wife is _sterile,_ Chan."

Chan scoffed, "And how does that benefit the two of us?"

Azula expected this from him, but she did not let it hinder her words, "It is simple. If the Firelord is unable to produce a suitable heir, he has to look to a different source. Either he marries another –which would never be the case, I assure you –or, he turns to his sibling: _that being me._ But, since I have birthed a _male_ child, he is to take the throne.

_"Raiden, our son, is the next Firelord."_

Chan peered down at Raiden, who was waiting for his mother to switch breasts, and gave him a shocked expression. Raiden –face and cheeks messy –returned the look at his father, though his appeared more innocent than stunned. Azula did as the child silently asked. Chan –such a polite gentleman –chastely looked away from her as she performed the task; he was not interested in seeing her fume over him again, which was all in good favor. The princess gave no real attention to him, as she was more interested in assisting her breastfeeding son. But, once she felt assured that everything was in order, she –with a straight face –carried on with her speech.

"And, I reassure you, with our marriage, age is _not_ a complication. You are only about three years my senior, Chan."

"But, beyond the obvious, why did you choose me? There are many men out there who would qualify as reliable suitors."

"How would you define _obvious?_ My initial reason is that you are Raiden's sire. I do not wish to repeat history. I grew up without my mother and it severely affected me and I wish to have Raiden exist in a world with little complications. I'm protecting him, if you will."

"Is that it?"

"No, I am not one to base any decisions on a single factor. I have a few others, one being that I am an adulterated, _unmarried_ female who delivered a child before reaching my eighteenth year, which is just two years above the feminine marital age. In case you are unaware, the nation has not been granted the news of our son's birth, mainly because the people might cause _havoc_ if they catch wind of troubling signs in the palace. So, before it can be announced, I must be wed. They say that the world loses _more_ women to marriage than famine, disease and disaster, but I find this not to be true."

Chan appeared a little hurt, "So, you are doing this for _yourself?_ What of me in all of this? Am I not even the slightest bit important to you?"

Azula presented a saddened glance, but her voice was bitter, "You judge with too much haste."

But she added something else –this, in a more seductive tone, "But, I do have _one other_ reason for proposing this marriage, Chan."

How she said his name –oh, it was almost _erotic_ –brought chills down his long, muscular back. His face revealed a flicker of something –_realization, perhaps?_

The Fire Nation Princess did not allow herself to watch him; she gazed back at Raiden, who was done nursing: he appeared rather weary. Chan seized this rare opportunity bestowed upon him. He pressed his lips to hers in a quick fashion, but he held himself still. Azula's eyes widened in her alarm, but fell into a more relaxed state. Her free hand slithered down to Chan's pectorals, then to his waist, his groin. He stopped her with a harsh squeeze to the wrist. She ended the kiss at this, a bit _offended_ by the act. He gestured to Raiden with his eyebrows; Azula assumed he just wanted the child out of the way. She sheathed her breast and placed the sleeping Raiden on the bed next to her, as there was no other place for him to go. It bothered her a little –to shrug her baby off in such an _ignorant_ manner, but he was not disturbed. Chan, pleased that there would hopefully be no _interruptions,_ set himself atop of Azula, straddling her and lying down against her tender body. Her midriff was pretty tight, despite being pregnant for eight months or so; it was only because she barely gained any weight when she was in the delicate condition. That was the _sole_ reason she managed to get away with it for so long, the reason the warden never took notice. She did not have any way of concealing it, so it came as a great _advantage_ to what she had been trying to achieve at the time. Plus, she barely ate –the baby did not get adequate nutrition in the womb, which physically explained his smaller stature. His height was about seventeen or eighteen inches and his weight was somewhere around five pounds at birth. Despite that hurdle, he was quite strong for his age: his lungs worked well; it was as if he was _barely_ affected.

Chan's hands took residence on Azula's breasts; his fingers were gentle with each sweep. But he then fondled with the string of her maternity robe. He tried to untie it rather slowly, almost _methodically,_ in attempt to drag out the moment before him, but it was Azula who scolded him. She gave him a stern expression with her topaz eyes, silently begging him to cease.

Something just _snapped,_ broke like a twig inside of her.

She rose and with a sorry shake to her head, she avoided his kindhearted gaze. It seemed to upset her. She wished not to be taken _advantage_ of again, as the previous events were aiming at. Chan shared her hurt emotions, even though he was more confused than he was distressed.

"What's the matter?"

She said nothing, did not even breathe.

"Azula."

She shuttered upon hearing her name. He had said it gently, like coaxing a shy animal, but it had not the preferred effect on her.

"Speak to me."

Azula had nothing to say. _How could one with so much pride at the start end up so bashful?_

The admiral's son brought his face to hers; their lips were mere centimeters apart. He took a long and deep look into her lost eyes. They held so much, even as she attempted to close them. No matter, he had seen enough. And in a more _conservative_ manner, he gave her a cousinly peck to the cheek. The princess' eyes swelled with tears; her teeth bit into her bottom lip. Chan had no understanding of her swift change in emotion, but all he could do was take her into a warm embrace.

Azula pressed her face into his chest, fists clenching in tight balls. Her long hair fell onto his forearm; it was soft on his skin. He stared at it briefly, intertwining a tress or two with his fingertips.

Finally, she fearfully stared into his irises, but slightly stuttered, _"Do you love me?"_

He did not answer, seeing that she had more to say. He rubbed the tears from her lashes and sat tolerantly with her wrapped in his arms.

"On the night we conceived Raiden, I developed _feelings._ I thought I'd never say this in my life, but I have _fallen in love_ with you."

She rested her head on his burly shoulder, digging her head into his neck like Raiden did to her.

"Azula," Chan turned his head and whispered in her ear, "I apologize for all that I have done to you, but I find that I do not deserve your affections."

She looked up frightfully, nervous at his condescending words.

"Chan, you _fathered_ my son, _blessed_ me with his conception, and _allowed_ me to bring him into the world. You don't know how much all that means to me.

"My decision was not a _quick_ one; I thought over it time and time again. I want this marriage to work between us.

_"Will it, Chan? Will you marry me?"_

Chan closed his eyes for a while and contemplated the matter. And with a nod…

_"…Yes."_

Azula slithered her way out of Chan's grasp and propped her head on one of the feathery pillows on the bed. She was on her back. She took a deep breath and exhaled calmly –her method of loosening her grip on the madness that had consumed her. Silence brewed again; the stillness was unsettling, but _soothing_ at the same time. It crept like a _poison_ in the veins, feeding off the air and oxygen in the lungs.

"Chan," Azula's voice was sudden and almost random.

He gave his full attention to her –he had to; _Azula would have expected no less from him._

She continued, "We have shared many, but every commitment is sealed with a _final kiss…_

_"Kiss me."_

Her voice had hints of a _demanding_ demeanor resonating off of it. It was an _inflexible_ kind of remark, one that was meant to be obeyed without question.

And Chan took advantage of her command. Setting a hand behind her soft head, he pulled her voluptuous lips to his. Azula, already on her back, untied her robe and allowed the middle to split apart, revealing herself to him. She tried to tear at his clothes, desperate for his romance and passion to filter within her being once again.

_"So, have you decided to marry the princess, my son?"_

The two broke a kiss and were startled by the sudden intrusion. Chan's father stood _pessimistically_ at the door. He had his elbow propped up against the wall in a relaxed fashion; he probably had been in that position for quite some _time._ Nervous and anxious, an embarrassed Azula covered her swollen breasts with a thin blanket. Chan stood from the bed. He was not pleased with his father, but out of _respect_ for his family, he did not bother to delve into the issue. He did, however, answer his question.

_"Yes, Father, if I may have your blessing?"_

The admiral chuckled amusingly, "If you so wish to have my _blessing,_ then I suggest that you refrain from more intercourse until you are _both_ wed. I am guessing this will be a _private_ wedding, being that the princess has already had a child. We would not want to disturb the _balance_ the Avatar worked so hard to achieve. Am I _correct_ in my assumptions, Princess?" The Loyalist in him was loud and clear –his sarcasm in referring to the Avatar _clearly_ stated his position on the new government.

Azula's cheeks reddened under the pressure of being in the spotlight, but a quick nod to the head satisfied the admiral.

"Well, I do not know if this is what Ozai intended, but now that I have caught wind that my grandson is to be the _heir_ to the throne, I have _no choice_ but to give you what you ask me, son."

With that, he turned and left the room, not even offering congratulations or goodwill to the couple. It was a rude gesture, but it symbolized his nature as one of Ozai's followers: such people had _little_ appreciation for those who did not directly benefit them.

Once his footsteps where inaudible, Chan turned to his soon-to-be wife. Both gave each other quirky laughs; that situation was just so _gauche._ Azula, carefully wrapping her maternity robe around her shoulders, pressed her body against his and kissed him lovingly.

"I will have the Firelord make arrangements for you to move into the royal palace. I don't expect the relocation to be _instant,_ but Raiden and I will be _waiting _for you."

Seemingly forgotten on the bed, Raiden let out a distressed squeak. He presumably felt _left out_ after his long nap, and this sound certainly got his mother's attention. She rushed over, standing just above him. The baby stared at her with his bottom lip sticking out displeasingly. Chan walked next to Azula and placed his hands on his knees. He began talking gibberish to the infant, who seemed to like it when his father acted strangely. Azula joined in the nonsense, adding tickles to his soft stomach with her long fingernails. He giggled sweetly, loudly too. Both parents threw in a few kisses to Raiden's cheeks, and his little hands played with their faces as they touched him. It was an adorable situation, a nice form of _bonding _between the three of them.

But all good things came to an end at some point. Azula scooped up the baby and placed him to her breast, where he suddenly closed his eyes and drifted off into slumber.

She whispered almost seductively into her beloved's ear, _"Until we meet again, darling…"_


	19. Epilogue

**Author's Note: I have finally reached the last installment of this very successful story. I will admit that I really did enjoy writing it –even when times got tough. To all those who have read, added my work to their favorites/subscription list, reviewed, and PMed me, I thank you for being there!**

**I think the epilogue is worthy for some sort of dedication, even if it might be considered a simple motion of appreciation. Two individuals have been there since the very beginning –way back in the days of my first story –and I truly believe that I should have done something sooner to honor that. So, please forgive me for this late gesture of gratitude. This goes to both GraysonPaladin (Paladin13) and J. Idanian, the two who have given me the best advice and compliments. I honestly do not think I would have made it to the epilogue if it were not for the both of you! Thank you so much for all you have done for me! I hope to end this on a sweet, fine note!**

**To all those who are interested in seeing where I go with this, I am happy to announce that there will be a third story –but many might already know that! A few questions that linger in this piece will be answered in the last part of the trilogy. I am only in the developing stages of creating it, so it may be a while before I see its publication. Please be patient with me!**

**I also want to express my regret for the delay. School has been difficult and the flu is spreading. I completed this while sick with a hideous fever, so if this epilogue seems a bit lackluster, it probably is. I apologize...**

**Again, I would like to thank all my fans for everything! You all just do not know how much it all means to me! Thank you for coping with me through thick and thin, and everything in between!**

Epilogue

Night was upon the earth. There was a strong wind about: trees bustled and stirred sporadically and the moon emitted a radiant light. It was around midnight or so, an early hour, but the glow was so bright that it could have _easily_ been mistaken for the morning sunrise. Such a spectacular thing it was –perhaps this was too _simple_ of a description? Nighttime was so lovely in the Fire Nation: for some reason, the typical navy blue sky almost seemed like a rusty red or maybe even a grape-like purple.

_It was a shame only a few were awake to witness its majesty…_

Azula sat up in her bed, pulling the sheet down from her breasts and to her waistline. The translucent curtains in her chambers were spread apart, revealing a stunning, almost, shall she call it, _romantic_ image. Rubbing her weary eyes with a yawn, the princess rose and stretched her tight, lengthy limbs. Her muscles ached –it seemed ironic, being that she was once a brilliant, budding athlete. Almost four years of basic immobility had taken its toll on her. As much as she clearly despised her grueling, wrathful past, Azula almost wished that some features would return. She had a child to care for; she needed to be in best form if something were to unexpectedly arise. But it was impossible to expect _instant_ gratification. Time, she deduced, was going to be in her favor, but patience was its golden key. Blessings were upon her every moment of her life; this, she could not deny.

She conceived life. This, in and of itself, was worthy of a miraculous label. Indeed, she had once denied that exceptionally holy aspect of her existence, but she reduced it to misunderstanding. At the time, she was virtually unaware of what the most simplistic things were capable of. But like all those who held true dignity on their shoulders, she found it necessary to blame and scold herself for such a stupid and selfish act of egoism. Raiden was the _centerpiece_ of her life; how she cherished him so. This adoration was irreplaceable. Carrying him for eight months in an atrocious prison cell brought them together in some invisible way –not one that was meant to be understood; its principle was admiration, the kind of admiration that was felt by all who witnessed the two together.

She fell in love and was due to be wed. No one in their right minds would have ever thought that the princess could ever shrink to such a _low_ –but then again, the world was still unaware of her freedom. Oh, but it did not matter –_yet, at least._ She anticipated better things –yes, better things, indeed. She was rather delighted to become a married woman, more than she initially thought she would be. After meeting with Chan earlier that morning, Azula had altered her game plan. She had no intention to marry him at first; it had been a simple introduction between father and son –nothing beyond that for the most part. Even Firelord Zuko found the news surprising, but it was not his right to object. His sister's happiness was of genuine importance to him, but it was not as if Azula _abused_ such authority anymore. His reaction was expected, though in the end, he replaced it with warm praise and heartfelt congratulations. He meant every word; he respected his sister and his young nephew –even if he had doubted it at first. Despite the fact that Raiden was not his son, he found it much too difficult not to offer the baby boy his affection. He wished _Mai_ would learn to accept their designated heir, but she was not the most trusting these days. Her rebellion against the princess all those years ago had a devastating consequence: the two women were, simply put, _distant,_ and this distance embodied Raiden as well. Azula did not believe that he deserved to be blamed or punished for any of her wrongdoings, but she was not up to quarrel with the crowned Firelady.

She revived her long lost relationship with her mother, the mother that _abandoned_ her, but still _loved_ and _cared_ for her, even after all those years of useless, petty squabbles and arguments. Azula did not mind the extra hand; since she was not one to allow servants to do any job that a mother could do better. Along with that, Raiden's father figure had yet to move into the palace. It would not be long, though, before the arrangements were made. Ursa was more than willing to fill the gap; the princess had an inkling that she was not going to relieve herself of the position. It was fine. After all, the woman was just so thankful to have a grandchild –Zuko was unable to provide her with one –why waste the opportunity to spend time with one of life's greatest miracles?

And, over all things, Azula came to terms with her metal state. She was once on edge, on the _verge_ of falling farther and farther into the dark void of her empty heart. But the holes have been patched up and filled with a richer blood. The emptiness in her head was expunged. Her thoughts no longer left that unpleasant taste on her tongue as she spoke them. All of that was behind her, brushed off like a speck of dust. The last few years in prison did not matter to her anymore. Besides, she left it and met the sun, _the dawn…_

An unexpected roll of thunder drummed through the night sky and was soon accompanied by the harsh wind and a dribble or two of rain. The pitter-patter of the rainfall had a nice hum to it –like nighttime music. The curtains swayed to the side, carrying the wind right into Azula's face. The thunder continued to clap; it pounded and echoed in her eardrums. She was sure it would…

Wailing in the crib to her left, Raiden _obviously _overheard the clamor outside. Azula turned from the window with a sudden jolt, rushing to him. Bare feet shuffling on the carpet, she made her way over and wrapped her child up in her inviting arms. He continued this episode, even as a young servant entered spontaneously.

The slave screeched over the sobbing infant, "Do you wish for any assistance, Princess?"

Azula gave a tired smile, but refused the offer.

"No," she stated, staring absorbedly into Raiden's crying eyes, "he should be fine. It's nothing I _cannot_ handle by myself, but I do thank you kindly."

"Yes, milady."

The youthful girl rushed out in a hurry, quickly shutting the princess' door behind her. Azula preferred solitude and privacy above all things, so it was quite a _relief_ when she exited. Though she no longer disrespected and despised her servants, she was still one to earnestly _dismiss_ them from time to time.

Getting back to the task at hand, the young mother rubbed her son's soft head. He quieted just slightly; his tiny voice reduced to short, fearful, squeaky moans. Realizing how tired he was, he rested his head into Azula's neck. He curled himself up there, barely wrapping his petite newborn hands up to her left clavicle. With a yawn and a charming sigh, he brought his fingers to his open mouth and closed his eyes.

Silence filtered the vast room like a blanket of air. Azula's eyes then strayed to her empty bed. The desire to sleep was _incredibly strong;_ she followed this instinct, walking right over to her cot, not even bothering to drop Raiden off into his crib. It was not as if he was _bothered_ by this; he was barely conscious of anyone or anything around him. Once she reached her destination, she pulled the covers down and propped up her feather pillows as delicately and quietly as humanly possible. She was so grateful that Raiden's crying spell was a short one, since he had yet to sleep all the way through the night, but, then again, _one-week-old babies never really bring much relief to their frazzled, overexerted parents…_

Azula laid herself down, back supported by the pillows behind her. Raiden stirred wearily, softly gurgling in some sort of protest. He stretched his wet fingers to her cheeks; she grasped them tenderly, placing one hand to the boy's lips. Within seconds, however, he was silent; his head snuggled into his mother's warm breast.

Once settled, the princess gave a final affectionate smile to her son before she herself finally fell into a deep slumber. Together in the night, their hearts touched and drummed a wonderfully harmonized tune, a tune no ears could ever hear. Like two lovers attached for life, the _sinner and the savior_ awaited the rise of the first morning light…

_The beautiful dawn…_


End file.
